Now We Have Everything
by MamaSpobette
Summary: Prequel to After All That We've Been Through. "Little did they know, their blissful basking in the light wouldn't be permanent, for darkness always lingered about. Would it ultimately lead to the revealing of another sky of stars? This wasn't just a new chapter in their lives. It was a new book. And the pages were about to turn rapidly whether they were ready or not."
1. Chapter 1

**_You're my North Star_**

"Is this really real? Did that just happen? We're married?" Spencer fanned dreamily.

"It's really real," Toby nodded, the smile he'd been wearing all day now producing wrinkles across his cheekbones, "We're here, we're married. You're officially Mrs. Cavanaugh now."

"Mm, I love the sound of that. Say it again."

"Mrs. Cavanaugh."

"Mmm, again." Spencer leaned forward, rubbing her nose against his.

"_Mrs. Cavanaugh_," Toby repeated, eliminating the air between them to purse his lips gingerly against his wife's.

"You know," Spencer purred in between kisses, "We're officially on our honeymoon. Maybe we should christen this house? Which room first?"

Toby looked around. The foyer was filled with their bridal gifts, still unopen. The center table was covered in flowers from the ceremony. Scattered about leading through the kitchen, living room, and guest bedroom were various boxes that still had yet to be organized and unpacked. The furniture they did have- a few couches, chairs, some tables, a chest- downstairs were all draped over with protective coverings while they awaited occupants.

Upstairs was no different. Their mattress was out, a few sheets covering it from when he had slept here the night before while Spencer was staying over with the girls, but their bed frame had yet to be set up. It was piled up along a wall with other furniture the pair had accumulated over the years.

Lifting a brow, Toby kissed down her jawline, stopping to mumble into her ear. "We don't have anything set up. Our bed hasn't been assembled. It wouldn't be very romantic."

"Toby, we're married now. We're in our _own_ house. It's our wedding night. Properly functioning furniture or shaggy retro carpets, it's going to be romantic."

"But I just want everything to be perfect, Spence-"

"It will be."

The snapping of the downfall from the heavens increased in pace and volume. It pelted down on the shingles like a million horses galloping, thunder clapping, as if it nature was applauding Spencer and Toby's recent nuptials. The window screens were open, slowly moistening the timeless floors that probably hadn't been replaced since the house's establishment. The Victorian house that Spencer and Toby now called home rattled against the wind, the sound bewitching. A soft gray glow emitted from the thunderous clouds outside as the dust laced, sheer white curtains twirled gracefully to the beat. The scent of rich mud and grass wafted through the screens, its' smell refreshing; pure.

It had been a beautiful day regardless of the slight overcast in Rosewood, and it was as if finally, for once, the world waited to create any sort of havoc; sort of an "I owe you" to all the countless interruptions the couple had endured over the years of their relationship. Toby's sea-sand colored truck had shuttled them home, tin cans clanking along the asphalt, Spencer's ivory veil fluttering out of the window as she happily waved goodbye to her friends and family. Their intimate wedding- with a very particular, condensed guest list in a modest location up on the hill they'd spent many nights stargazing on in high-school- had been nothing short of perfect. There was something so classy and elegant, yet rustic about it- with candles and flower pedals strewn about the field, their picnic tables adorned with white, yellow and mauve roses and lanterns. Carefully laid out in a path along the grass leading to an arched vintage gazebo that was draped with fairy lights and white translucent cloth pinched together at the pillars were rose petals.

After blistering their toes on the dance floor with their friends and relatives, and of course, each other, Toby was eager to get Spencer home. A wedding gift from Spencer's parents, though it was most certainly a fixer-upper, the large house stood waiting for them. Toby had held the door for her, scooping her up into his arms as light rain drops slid down their skin. Spencer's voluminous chocolate curls began to deflate, but Toby had managed to get them under the shelter of their front porch before she ruined her dress. He'd barely managed to unlock the door- dropping the keys twice- because of how hard he and Spencer were laughing. He'd dropped her shoe and had to go back for it, leaving her hunched over on the porch as she poked fun at him trying to run in a suit.

Once they'd been safely inside, Toby had tried to switch the lights on, but the chandelier hanging above just buzzed with a resounding refusal. He and Spencer had thumped down on their sheet protected couch they'd recently invested proudly in. He watched on breathlessly as Spencer's oval, backless, laced wedding gown hugged her body, puffing up a bit at the ends when she sat down with him.

Now, Spencer was looking longingly at him, her eyes tracing his lips as her fingers traced his tie. She tugged on it as she stood up, turning around. Her skin shimmered through the peek-a-boo-heart shaped-back, the flower patterns fitting in there exquisitely.

"Get the button?" she asked over her shoulder, pulling her hair aside for him.

Toby obeyed, planting his feet firmly behind the train of her dress. Undoing the button on her neck line, he permitted his fingers to skim across the contours of her back; right where it indented. She arched her back in response, her eyes fluttering shut as she exhaled softly. He breathing shortened as Toby's lips moved from her shoulder blade to latching onto the curvature of her neck. Although it was a bit drafty in the house, Toby and Spencer were intent on generating their own heat.

A suctioning sound resulted from Spencer removing herself from Toby's mouth. She stepped forward, turning to face him, her palms against his chest. Grabbing at his suspenders, she lassoed him inward for a lingering kiss before drawing back again. Her eyes glossed over, she pushed off, giggling. A flash of lightning lit up the entire first floor, and by the time Toby snapped back into reality, Spencer was slowly sinking backwards into the shadows. He followed, pacing himself, not able to keep from grinning at her playfulness.

Toby was definitely interested in this game she was playing, but he was more so interested in obtaining the prize at the end. Still, there was no need to rush anything. It was their wedding night...it should be slow and loving and romantic. Relieving himself of his suspenders, Toby tossed them aside, following Spencer into the foyer. Spencer pushed the sleeves of her dress down her shoulders, shimmying out of her dress and carefully stepping out of it. Toby's eyes widened at the reveal of the lingerie she was now displaying for him, biting his lip.

Spencer nodded at him, not able to hide her blush as he unbuttoned his shirt and placed it on the ground near her dress, following her as she walked backwards. Stopping against the stairwell, Toby pushed her against it, kissing her softly. Spencer's lips grazed his neck.

"Close your eyes,'' she said softly, breaking free of his arms, "Count to twenty. Come and find your _wife_."

Toby paced himself in his counting, but once he reached fifteen his anticipation got the best of him and he jumbled the numbers together, "Ready or not, here comes your _husband_!"

It was almost impossible to see now, and he stumbled up the steps, laughing as he saw Spencer's knee-high tights draped across the top of the railing. Brushing his thumb across them, he took off his own socks, kicking them carelessly on the steps so that they tumbled down. As he rounded the corner, he found her veil next, and he discarded his pants. Another crackle of thunder shook the floorboards, followed by an overwhelming flash of lightning that momentarily blinded Toby. Finally, he could hear her light footsteps as she tiptoed. Nearing what was meant to be their bedroom at the end of the hall, he blinked.

Spencer's fingers scaled up his back from behind him. She placed a kiss on the back of his neck, before her lips ventured downwards, tugging playfully on his boxers. Running her fingers along the elastic band, they circled around, before they traced up his abdominals and chest. Toby growled as she scratched back down, her hands suddenly missing from the equation. He wanted to turn around, and almost did, until he saw Spencer's hand drape over his right shoulder; her lingerie pinched between her forefinger and thumb. She let it fall to the floor, pressing herself against his bare back, her lips dragging on his ear.

Toby couldn't take it anymore. Twirling around, he grabbed at her waist, hoisting her up so that her legs were around his hips. Spencer tugged at his hair as their lips fused together, Toby walking them into their still empty room.

There were plastic coverings all over from the painting he'd started, but that didn't seem to be a bother at the moment. Dusting aside the random objects on their mattress, Toby lowered Spencer onto it. He delicately explored every inch of her skin, though he'd done it many times before, tonight was different. Tonight he wasn't making love to Spencer Hastings, but to Spencer _Cavanaugh._ Goosebumps coated his skin every time he thought about her having his name now; it held so much meaning.

After countless hours of celebrating their marriage, they held each other tightly, their arms and legs completely woven together. The moonlight filtering in through the dusted windows, Spencer looked up at him with her mocha eyes through thick, wet lashes. Brushing away a few leftover tears from Toby's chin, she caressed his skin there. She was flat on her stomach, anchored into his chest as if there were invisible ropes bounding their bodies together. They kissed lazily, Toby reached for her hand and threading his fingers through hers sensually.

"I love you, Mrs. Cavanaugh," he said against her lips.

Spencer held her ring up to their eye level, admiring the way it was only enhanced by the glow of the moonlight. Focusing her eyes back onto his sea-blue ones, she smiled, running her palm up over his heart, "Mr. Cavanaugh, I love you more than there are stars in the sky," she peered over her shoulder towards their window, "Not that you can see them tonight."

"Oh, I can see them," Toby smiled, his fingers under her chin, "Right here. I've never seen them shine so brightly. They're beautiful. I think they've taken my breath away."

Lifting herself on top of her new husband, Spencer peppered kisses around his face; his nose, his chin, his cheeks, his forehead.

As they drifted off into peaceful slumber, as husband and wife, Spencer whispered one of her favorite quotes amidst the steady rainfall.

"I will love the light, for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars..."

At that moment nothing could have rang truer.

Little did they know, their blissful basking in the light wouldn't be permanent...for darkness always lingered about. The question was: Would it ultimately lead to the revealing of the another sky of stars?

This wasn't just a new chapter in their lives. It was a new book. And the pages were about to turn rapidly whether they were ready or not.

* * *

_**Well, there you have it folks! The kick off of the prequel to After All That We've Been Through! If you haven't read AATWBT first, I strongly encourage it. The events I will be portraying in this story take place before it- however, there are totally some things you need to brush up on to understand future events/lines/characters/jokes/references. **_

_**I thank you all for your patience! I cannot express how grateful I am for your countless messages in regards to this story, and I am still just elated to find posts about AATWBT or Audrey on tumblr, etc. Consider this story my thank you present to you :) I'd like to especially give thanks to my Spobette senoritas who let me bounce ideas around and have helped foster many ideas for this. Their encouragement never ceases to humble me. **_

_**Alas, I do not own Spencer, nor do I own Toby or any of the other PLL characters. I do not own the town of Rosewood. I do not own the show, or the books. I also do not own the beautiful quote I featured at the end, credit goes to Og Mandino. **_

_**Look for the next chapter soon! Your reviews are the truck to my Toby: they keep this baby going. **_


	2. You Better Knock on Wood

_** Chapter 2: You Better Knock On Wood**  
_

_There's this saying: Knock on wood. It originates back to Pre-Christian religions, where ritually, people would rap against hawthorn, ash and oak trees because the wood was believed sacred. It was believed that these trees would bring a blessing, one that would continue on against all odds. Irishmen fables tell of knocking against wood to thank the Leprechauns for good fortune. _

_"We're always lucky," Ernest Hemingway said in A Moveable Feast, 'and like a fool, I did not knock on wood. There was wood everywhere in that apartment to knock on too...''_

_Often, we get so wrapped up in our daily lives, that we forget to thank the Leprechauns. We forget that while good things come in abundance, bad things come in threes, fours, fives...sometimes sixes. It's ironic how there is wood all around us, sometimes as plenty as the air we breath, and yet it goes forgotten. _

_Many believe that luck is what we make of it. That it is not luck that brings us good fortune, but our actions. Our behavior. Our drive. We make our own luck...and we destroy it. So, we cast away our superstitions. We give up our seemingly childish rituals for logic. We neglect the wood. _

"That's the last of it," Toby grunted, plopping down a few pieces of firewood that he'd bravely gathered from the shed down the trail, "Are you any dryer yet?"

Twisting out the ends of her hair into a cup to display just how much rainwater had gathered there, Spencer sniffled, "I think the only dry thing I have left at this point is my humor. But look at you, now you're soaked to the bone. You must be freezing!"

"I was already. Anyway, it was worth it, if it will keep you warm."

Poking at the fire in the stone fireplace of their ancient honeymoon cabin, Toby dusted off his hands. "I talked to the front desk while I was out. They said they can book us the next cabin but it is currently occupied and will not be available until tomorrow morning."

"I don't understand this mix up! It has been one thing after another! We should have just stayed home. At least there we didn't have to deal with leaky roofs, infested cabinets, two twin sized beds and the overwhelming stench of mildew-"

The lights above them flickered, dancing one last time before going out completely. The glow of the fire Toby had created was their sole source of light now as it was nearing ten o'clock.

"Not to mention working electricity. I'm afraid to turn on the sink...it will probably start draining blood from the victims that were most likely butchered here many moons ago. What's next? An eerie little girl showing up at the foot of our beds looking for vengeance? Cannibals selling organ cookies? My mother dropping by to interrupt us because she didn't interrupt us enough as teenagers and takes the dubbed name Life Ruiner way too seriously? This honeymoon has been a complete bust. There has been nothing even remotely romantic about it. I'm so sorry." Spencer pouted.

Lowering himself to the ground, Toby pulled her back into his lap, his hands providing her with warmth, though the rest of him was chilled from the bitter autumn rain, "Spence, I don't see why you feel the need to apologize. You're not the one that booked this cabin."

He looked around, wrapping his arms more securely around her as shadows played out on the sun-flowered walls, "I should have looked more into the location. The description sounded ideal...secluded, up in the mountains, gorgeous scenery, friendly service, the smell of nature, cozy cottages with jet tubs. I didn't think the Getaway package's special included mints under our pillows and a sunroof."

Pressing her skull into Toby's chest, Spencer inhaled deeply. He smelled like rain and cologne, and it was almost enough to distract her nostrils from the foul odor of the rug they were sitting on...but not quite. Erecting herself up, she pressed a kiss on his forehead, ruffling his tousled hair, "I'm going to see if I have a signal out on the porch. I should call Hanna and make sure our windows are shut."

"Okay. Be safe. Scream if any psycho-killers hound you."

"Very funny. Need I remind you of who screamed hysterically when they saw a dainty little spider on the floor earlier and jumped into my bed? If anyone is going to save the day here, it's me. Remember, baby, you are bigger than the spider."

"Hey! That spider was the size of my eyeball and it had fangs!"

"Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night, macho man. I'll be right back."

Hearing the screen door creak behind her, Toby jumped up. There were very few things Toby Cavanaugh was afraid of; and spiders was one of the few. At Spencer's mention of his earlier run in with their furry little eight legged roommate, he suddenly felt like they were crawling all over him. Peeling off his shirt, he tossed it over his head, cringing. Reaching out, his hand landed on the box of matches he'd set down on the coffee table. His eyes widening, he suddenly had an idea how to turn this night around.

When Spencer returned, their "charming" cabin was strangely silent. She'd just gotten ahold of Hanna, who was house sitting for them while they were gone. After explaining the disaster of events that had unfolded since they'd arrived, and hearing rustling in the bushes, Spencer was eager to get back to Toby. Securing the door behind her, she glanced around.

"Toby? Hanna says we got a package yesterday from-whoa! Toby!"

Grinning, Toby bit his lip. He looked incredibly angelic and everything like Hercules as he revealed himself from the shadows where their heart shaped jet tub was positioned in the corner. A white towel secured around his waist, the candles reflecting from his eyes, Spencer was suddenly very glad the power had gone out. While she'd stepped out for a ranting session, he'd managed to gather every candle in the cabin and lay them out, giving the cabin a captivating glow. Rose pedals were scattered about the ledge of the tub, concealing the water.

The color on Spencer's cheeks matched the pedals, her eyes sparkling.

Every possible thing that could have gone wrong had that day. It started with them getting completely lost because Toby had refused to use the GPS they'd gotten for a wedding favor, then a collision with a deer because the rain had been too thick to see through. This led to them hitching a ride with the local tow-man, who assured them their car would be fixed within the next three days, stranding them at their current lodge one day longer than they'd originally arranged for. The extravagant, ultra romantic cottage Toby'd blindly reserved for them up in the Poconos ended up getting mixed up with another couple, who was no doubt enjoying the fuzzy white robes Toby'd been so excited about the entire drive up. They walked from the main lobby up a dirt road for a mile to get to the wrong cabin, only to find that it was not only extremely outdated and lacking charisma, but it had several maintenance issues- like a leaky roof and stained carpets, or the ever charming triple six spray painted on the bathroom mirror. If that hadn't been enough, they'd decided to go for a swim at the resort's pool, and Toby had lost his wedding ring. They paid the little boy that had found it five bucks two hours after nearly developing ulcers. Finding out they had to stay in this hell hole another night before they got the accommodations they'd asked for originally was icing on the cake.

But here Toby was, making the most of the situation. Just like always.

Beaming at her husband, Spencer kicked off her shoes and socks, removing her soggy jacket. Her shirt stuck to her skin, but Toby happily stepped forward to assist her in purging it, making sure to form goosebumps as he kissed each newly revealed area. So often she'd heard women compare their bodies to temples, something she always thought to be silly. Now, she understood. The way Toby worshiped every part of her like he might never get the chance to again, like she was the most precious human in existence, like she was the one thing he could always believe in no matter what; like she was his sanctuary.

"I figured since we were already wet..." Toby motioned towards the tub.

Looping her arms around his neck as Toby slid her jeans down to her ankles, Spencer stepped out of them, pressing against Toby to keep her balance. She was already dizzy by the candle-enhanced sight of vignette of him, but his touch subtracted her ability to be graceful. She let him scan her body shamelessly, her back arching as his fingers rained up the indent of her back, circling around to her rib-cage and then down to rest along her hips. They began putting pressure on her hipbones, drawing out a sigh, working their way inwards. They stopped and took an alternative route, moving as slow as an over capacitated elevator up the middle of her front side, dipping into the valley below her collarbone, and then cupping her neck.

Massaging his scalp, Spencer too let her fingers decrease in altitude, deep sea diving down his back, around his chest and to the top of his towel. Her thumbs running back and forth, Spencer bit back a grin as Toby let out a shaky sigh, a growl in the back of his throat. His Adam's Apple bounced up and down like a high striker at a carnival that had malfunctioned.

Wetting her lips, Spencer shortened the distance between their tilted heads, their chins fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Instead of kissing Toby like he'd anticipated, she kept her mouth shut, leaving the softest kisses that were that of fairy dust on his cheek, around his jaw, around the corners of his lips. Pecking his lips, she waited until he responded with his, before pulling back. He leaned forward in a trance, his mouth ready for more. Every time he made an advancement towards her lips, she lifted her hands higher on his body, now on the sides of his upper chest. He backed down finally, and she lowered them again, tickling his tattoo.

Opening her mouth slightly, she let him kiss her, but withdrew when his tongue tried to enter. Returning back to her original light kisses, she kissed his lips, hearing him groan in frustration. Toby roped her into him closer so she could feel how fed up he was, but Spencer was enjoying this far too much. One hand back up in his hair, she began massaging it again, tugging on it as her lips moved softly against his. Intensifying the kiss, she began tugging harder at the roots, giving his towel a sharp yank. It loosened and she threw her leg around his waist. He grabbed onto it, dragging them backwards, before lifting her bridal style and stepping into the warm water he'd prepared. She giggled against his lips, feeling his lips bend upwards into a grin. Yelping a bit as toes made contact with the water, it stung until she gradually was placed in entirely, curled up in Toby's lap. He leaned her gently against the back of the tub, going to his favorite place on her neck.

They remained in there until the water was no longer hot, until their fingers and toes were completely pruned, until only two candles were left surviving, until it was nearly time for the sun to wake up and trade shifts with the full moon.

Spencer was thankful that the weather had cooled down, requiring sweaters. She knew she's had an assortment of marks courtesy of Toby, who had helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel, massaging her aching feet as the water drained. They spent the next hour cuddled up under a large blanket, neither having the desire to get dressed quite yet. Her back against Toby, his legs around her, they roasted the marshmallows he'd picked up- along with a few other supplies at the nearest store that he could walk get to in a reasonable amount of time on foot - just enjoying the tranquility of the moment. They didn't have to say anything, and in fact, neither had spoken in almost an hour, their hearts and nuzzling speaking volumes.

When at last little whisps of pink began peeking in through the dirt stained windows, Toby woke a half sleeping Spencer with kisses.

"Hmm?"

"Come on."

"Come where?" she gurgled, rubbing her eyes.

"There's something I want you to see. Come on. Trust me."

"But I don't have anything on-"

"Spencer, we are miles away from civilization. Secluded getaway, remember? C'mon. Here."

Wrapping the blanket around them, but more-so his dazed wife, Toby kept his arms nestled around her waist, marching them outside. He lead them over to the swing, sitting down first, bringing her with him. She cuddled up into his lap closer immediately, kicking her legs up on the swing, bending them so that her knees were against his stomach. Toby secured the throw over her further, his arms under it as he pretzeled her in his protective embrace- exactly where she belonged.

The nonstop rain Pennsylvania had been experiencing all week had finally thrown up a white flag, and the sun was rising along the roofs of the trees. The view was breathtaking. The silence canopying them only enhanced the show. Rosewood was a small town, but there was still the smog and honking horns, the bustling of its' citizens. Out here tucked away in the mountains, all Spencer could hear was the creaking of the swing as Toby rocked them, his breath against her ear as he rested his chin on her shoulder, and the best lullaby she'd ever had; his heart.

* * *

They hadn't gotten much sleep, but they were wide awake when breakfast time rolled around. After showering and dressing, Toby and Spencer walked arm in arm down into the town- which consisted of a gas station, a few shops, a bar, a chapel, and two restaurants. Their stomachs had been begging them to refuel after a long night of doing what newlyweds do best, so Toby insisted they go out for breakfast.

It was of no surprise to them that one of the restaurants was busy, because where else would people eat in this town? Opting for the one down the street so they could get back to their cabin and cuddle some more and Toby could whisper over and over that he loved Spencer- she'd never heard him say it so many times before- as he held her tightly against him, Spencer let Toby drag her into a booth.

"See?" he said optimistically, "Instant seating."

The waitress took their orders, and Spencer decided that their soup of the day would warm her up, before examining the wood chips and carvings at their table.

"And instant service," Toby marveled, his arm around her shoulder as he kissed her hair, "Plus? Looks like we've got the whole place to ourselves..."

Removing her neck from his assault, Spencer chuckled, "That does not give you permission to engage in excessive PDA with me that will result in our food being poisoned because we're behaving like animals during mating season. There has to be a catch to this. There's probably a reason people flock to the other restaurant."

"Here you go," the waitress said dryly, dropping off their food, "You must be newlyweds. How sweet."

Toby smiled up at her, taking Spencer's hand and showing off the rock he'd saved up for, "Yes ma'am. Going on four days now."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," the lady humphed, "Because it won't."

Watching as she stomped off, Toby and Spencer exchanged puzzled expressions, before bursting into laughter. Diving right into their platters, they cleared their plates within minutes, leaving their payment at the bar where a man had already drowned himself in some whiskeys and was using coasters as a pillow.

Strolling along a nature trail, they burned off their meals, skipping happily back up the trail to their cabin. The owner of the resort was waiting for them, informing them that they had cleaned the room they were supposed to be in, had thrown in a few extra treats as an apology, along with a discount, and had already moved their luggage for them. Once Spencer and Toby jetted towards their new cottage- which was modern, but had that home feeling to it- they hoped from room to room with excitement. The furniture was new, the colors were warm and appealing, the mirror was void of any graffiti, they had a king canopy bed surrounded by mirrors (which, honestly, freaked Spencer out a bit, but Toby was elated by the idea), a jet tub, a fireplace, a small kitchen area void of any crawling creatures, and new flooring. The lights worked, but there was more of a reliance on natural lighting which added to the character of the cabin. There was a balcony out back with a gorgeous view of the valley below near the stream, and a bed-like swing with a patio table. The hot tub was a bonus, and Toby playfully informed her they'd be using it later that night as they "star gazed." Toby had been correct, and they were provided with the plushest robes and slippers, and Mr. and Mrs. towels and pillows. Their bed came with a basket of complimentary treats such as wine and crackers, and their fridge had chocolate covered strawberries. There were vases of flowers on every table and everything about their upgrade was perfect.

They'd run into some obstacles, and had frankly been miserable when they'd arrived the day before, but now they couldn't be happier. Unfortunately, that happiness was short lived, because when Spencer decided to take a long bath (any excuse to wear her new robe) and looked in the mirror, she could hardly believe her eyes.

Her upper lip was completely swollen. It was puffed and reddened. She resembled a duck. Letting out a horrified scream, she kept her eyes glued to her reflection.

"No, no, no, tbis cwannot bwe hwabenning!"

Toby was pounding on the door frantically, his tone laced with worry. "Baby? What's going on? Open the door! Are you alright? Is there a spider? Because I can't handle another one! Spencer? Spencer! Open the door! Are you okay?"

"Gwo away!" Spencer howled, sitting down on the toilet, sobbing.

"Honey, what's wrong? Please, let me in."

"I'm hwaving an allergic weaction, Twoby. Its howible. You don't bwant to see me like bhis. Pwease, just weave me abone."

She could hear his voice drop, another knock on the door, "Babe, please. Open the door? It can't be that bad. C'mon, let me see."

"Pwomise not to laugh?"

"Spencer, why would I laugh? Open up."

Unlocking the door for him, she sat back down on the toilet, ashamed of her appearance. Her hair curtained her face, her arms crossing over it as a shield. Toby stepped forward.

"Oh, come on. It can't be all that bad..."

Dramatically looking up, Spencer blinked at her husband miserably.

Toby shrieked, jumping back.

Spencer broke down, turning her face away from him, "I'm hwideous! You can't eben look at me! My husband thinks I'm ugly!"

"No, no!" Toby knelt down in front of her, prying her hands away. Turning her so she was facing him, he looked over her reaction, gently thumbing over her swollen lip. His eyes were filled with sympathy.

"Oh, babe. I'm so sorry. Must have been something in that mystery soup of the day. I'll get you some ice, okay? It should reduce some of the swelling and then I'm going to jog into town and hunt down some Benadryl. I'm sorry, Spencer."

Tilting her chin upwards, he kissed her swollen lip, dropping a tender one on her forehead, "I love you and you still look beautiful. Plus that little lisp you've got? Pretty damn cute."

Spencer sniffled, letting out a low whimper, her shoulders shaking.

Toby pulled her onto his knee, hugging her lovingly, "There, there. It's going to be okay. You're going to get through this. We can fix this."

"I don't even think Dr. McSteamy could fwix thib, Twoby!"

"Who?"

_And then the wood neglects us. Suddenly, we find ourselves wishing we'd never defied our superstitions. We wished we'd never walked under ladders, stroked the stray black cat in the dark alley or opened our umbrellas indoors._

_So what do you do when you're winning all the prizes? When you've aced every test without studying? When you cheat bad fortune? Do you see the bride or groom the morning of your wedding day? Do you set down your cup of coffee, hang your bird feeder, and make your bed? Did you keep going without giving thanks to the little men? Or did you give in? Did you knock on wood? Because it if seems too good to be true...is it? _

* * *

_**Whew. This baby was long! I apologize for not updating sooner. The summer finale in all honesty broke my little shipping heart, but I can promise you, this story will go on. **  
_

_**Thank you thank you thank you for your reviews- I was not expecting such positive feedback! I knew some of you had expressed interest in my continuing this story from AATWBT, but I wasn't sure if people would actually follow me up on it. I am eternally thankful. :) Your patience and love keep this thing going. **_


	3. They Will Move Mountains

**_Chapter 3: They Will Move Mountains_**

Slamming the phone back onto the receiver from their wake up call courtesy of the front desk, Toby ran a hand over the profile of his tired face. He massaged the bags under his eyes, yawning. According to the manager, they had less than an hour to check out, and Toby had received word from the auto-mechanic down the road that the dent in he and Spencer's joint bank account fixed their car and it was ready.

The day before had been exhausting, but wonderful. Once Spencer's lip deflated back to normalcy after a day of heavy ice and watching black and white films in the comfort of their cottage suite, the couple embarked on hikes, had a picnic, and even went horseback riding up the mountain side. They'd even gotten brave enough to go white-water rafting, though Toby literally had to pry Spencer's fingers off of the dock and throw her over his shoulder. They'd gone to the next town over for some shopping and sight-seeing; taking old fashioned pictures for the fun of it, and scarfing down funnel cakes and old-fashioned candy. Following a candlelit dinner, some hot tub time, and way too much to champagne in celebration of their newlywed status, the couple had retreated back to their room for additional romantic festivities.

Now as Toby stretched every muscle in him throbbed. He hadn't felt this sore in a long time, but it was so worth it. Shivering, he noticed that Spencer had robbed him of the covers and tried to extract some to cover his exposed lower half, but her grip was like Gorilla Glue. Tutting, Toby looked over at the woman in bed with him. Her chestnut waves were ratted in the back, sticking every which way like branches of a tree. She was lying on her stomach, one arm tucked under her, the other spread out over Toby's pillow, which she had also taken from him in her slumber. Popping his neck to relieve some of the tension, Toby sat up, smiling. He couldn't help it. Her position was quite comical.

She wasn't lying in the traditional way, where one's head is near the head board. No, she was lying across the width of the bed horizontally, her legs draped over his thighs, one of her feet tucked under him, the other kicked up in a point. He remembered specifically that they fell asleep with her arms looped around his neck and her head tilted back against a mountain of pillows. Now all those pillows were on the floor. Reaching down to capture her right leg, he set it free of the constraints of his own and pulled on it so Spencer was closer. Using his fingertips he delicately tickled the heel of her foot, watching her for a reaction. Knowing that she had the tendency to kick people when she was being tickled, he locked his hand around her opposite ankle. As predicted, her legs jolted upward and he dodged them from doing damage to his face, laughing softly.

Instead of waking, Spencer snuggled deeper into the pillow as if it was a teddy bear - or him. Walking his fingers up the back of her legs, he flattened his hands and rubbed up her body, removing the sheets as he went. Leaning over her, balancing on his forearms so he wouldn't squish her, his mouth bent down to compliment every curve as it ascended to the space between her shoulder blades. He stopped there, using a hand to shovel under her and tickle her ribs.

"Spencer," he whispered, "Spencer Cavanaugh. Speeeennnnceeerrr."

She growled at him, still half asleep. "Mmmmmmmm, no!"

"Yes," he mimicked, "Spencer."

"No!" she objected in a rasp, flailing an arm out to swat at him, "Sleeping."

"We have to check out. You've got to wake up."

Feeling Toby's hand coast down to her bellybutton, Spencer arched her back, moving her head to the side to peek at him through puffy eyes. Squinting against the sunlight, she tucked back some strands of chocolate in the line of her vision, rubbing at the corners of her eyes. "Just let me sleep! Please, Toby! I'm so tired."

"I know baby," he cooed back, moving onto the side of her. Fishing for her hand that was tucked under her body, he placed his over the top, dragging it out slowly, causing her to moan, "But we have to get going. Room service is going to kick us out if we don't. Besides, I'd like to stop for breakfast in that one town a few miles South of here that we came across on the drive up. You can sleep in the car. I'll drive."

"I don't want to sleep in the car!" Spencer pouted, "I want to sleep right here. Besides, last time you drove and I snoozed, we nearly ended up in Canada. Now if you'll excuse me, I am trying to recharge."

Rolling his eyes, Toby watched as she fell back asleep, debating his next actions. Supposing he could go ahead and shower and wake her after, he moved to get up, but not before another idea burst his first one. Grinning mischievously, he waddled back to the bed, untwisting all the covers from her bare body. He knew Spencer would kill him for this, but it would be the quickest way to ensure she woke up and remained awake. Besides, they were still in their honeymoon phase- literally- so even if she did get angry with him, he knew it wouldn't be for long.

Sweeping her with ease into his arms, he smirked even wider when she nestled against him. There was no need to turn the light on in the bathroom, the sunroof was supplying enough natural light as was. Walking them into their walk in shower, he held Spencer against the wall, turning on and adjusting the water so it was comfortable. Steam rising up from the tiles, Toby moved her into a standing position, though her body was incredibly limp against him for support. Backing them under the nozzle, so that he was fully under, and the water was splashing up onto her shoulders and chest, he covered her face with one hand so it didn't get in her eyes when she opened them.

He heard her gasp for air in surprise, before he was headbutted. Yelping in pain, it was soon substituted for laughter at her priceless reaction. Spencer threw her arms around him, nearly jumping back into his arms like there was a snake on the ground threatening her safety.

"Toby Cavanaugh!" she bellowed, slapping his chest as she battled away the water from her face.

Gripping Spencer's waist to keep her upright as she kicked and flailed about angrily, Toby stifled a smile, biting his lower lip, "Good morning, sunshine."

"I hate you!"

"Oh, come on. I know for a fact that is far from the truth."

"That was rude!"

"I warned you! I told you to get up but your adamancy got the better of you. Why are you so unpleasant in the morning?"

" Because I'm mourning my loss of sleep. Why are you so pleasant in the morning?"

"Early bird gets the worm," Toby shrugged, lathering some shampoo in his palms and applying it to Spencer's scalp, massaging it in.

Spencer couldn't help but sigh in pleasure as his hands began stimulating her senses, her eyes falling shut, "Yeah, well, the early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. Plus, I'm pretty sure the early bird has intestinal problems after."

"How did you get so witty with your comebacks, huh?"

"Since I transferred to Hollis to be with you and altered my major to become an teacher. We have to be quick on our toes. It's like a code of survival."

"Hmm. Maybe I should go to college and major in your field, too," Toby teased, helping her rinse her hair.

Spencer lifted her arms to return him the favor, rubbing in the shampoo he'd used for her into his own ruffled hair, "I'm sure you'd be great with children, but I really think you should stick to your specialty."

"Which is?"

"Which is being a pain in my ass and throwing me into the shower before I've had my routine cup of life. That was brutal."

"I was saying I could major in it so that I could learn some survival skills...you know, to ward off those three foot tall little monsters you're so concerned about. Hey, brutal would have been literally tossing you in here without making sure the water was pleasant. Oh here, can you reach?"

Teasingly, he bent down a bit, rubbing the top of his head against her chin. Spencer was actually fairly tall, and with heels, she was nearly his height, but he still got a kick out of giving her grief over the difference.

Latching her hands into his hair and giving them a sharp tug, Spencer brought his eyes to hers, "Excuse me! All the survival tips in the world wouldn't save you now. You've just enraged a caffeine deprived woman, who by the way, has you backed into a corner with no escape."

Chuckling, Toby pressed his face into her neck, holding her tenderly against him, "Such torture."

Spencer tickled the nap of his neck, removing her hands from his hair to cup his shoulders, "If you keep doing that I won't be able to rinse your hair."

"I just want to hold you for a minute, let me hold you. I have to go almost five hours on the drive back without having you in my arms. I'm trying to compensate for later."

Smiling as a result of his sweet words, Spencer looped her arms under his, tracing hearts along his upper back lovingly. As he stood up straight, she let her face rest flat against his chest, rotating the position every now and then to plant kisses there.

Sighing, she spoke after a moment of content silence, "I don't want to go home."

Soap drained into Toby's mouth as he bared his teeth, and he flickered his tongue to get the taste out, caressing her miles of hair. "Spence, just the other day you were complaining about how much you wanted to get out of this place. Now you don't want to ever leave?"

"Well, I had a change in heart. The thought of you and I up here alone, no interruptions, no real world problems seduced me."

"Babe, problems seem to find us wherever we travel. Need I remind you of your lip inflation the other day? Or how about our car breaking down? Besides, we couldn't stay hidden out up here even if we wanted to. You have your classes and I have my job. We have responsibilities."

"I know. I just...I'm scared that once we return to Rosewood our honeymoon period of playful banter, breakfast in bed, spontaneous adventures, fine dining, and extensive love making will be over. I mean, what happens after? I've read horror stories. I don't want our passion to fade," she lowered her voice sadly, "I don't want to become like my parents."

Cupping her face, Toby brought his lips to brush against Spencer's temple. "Actually, research suggests that this phase lasts anywhere from two months to two years. As for what happens after? I think we just take everything one day at a time. Spencer, you and I have proved time and time again that we are anything but normal. We're not a statistic. We're not our parents. Our passion isn't going to fade...maybe our tolerance of each other might waver, but I can promise you I will never, ever love you any less than I do now. If anything, the challenges we face when we return to the real world and step out of this fantasy will only make my love for you expand. We've lived together for so long already that even the surprises won't be all that surprising. I know that you have to wash your hands three times before you attempt to prepare any meal- which by the way, is not your strong point. I know that you have a tendency to leave your second cup of coffee in the microwave because you're in a rush to get out the door. I know that you're a compulsive neat freak that feels the world is off balance when you find one of my dirty socks on the ground or toothpaste in the sink. I know that you have awful morning breath-"

Spencer pinched at his chest, "Thanks, Toby. That's real nice."

Toby placed a finger over her lips, looking sternly at her.

"But that doesn't stop me from kissing you good morning, does it? We're going to make compromises. We're going to continue to consider each other's feelings. We're going to keep on communicating, even if it results in us sleeping in separate rooms for a week. There are going to be days where we hate each other, but I promise you here and now that I will always, always kiss you goodnight. We'll go through financial ups and downs, but I think the important thing to remember here is that so long as we have each other, we couldn't be richer. We're going to take care of each other. We're going to stick together. Above all? We're going to keep on loving each other."

Touched by his speech, Spencer's lips crashed against his, fully believing him.

She didn't know what would happen when they got home, or what challenges they'd be faced with, and she hated those uncertainties. But the one thing she could be sure of were the promises they had made at the alter a few days ago- and how devoted they'd be in the days, weeks, months, and years to come in keeping those promises.

* * *

Throwing his duffel bag over his shoulder, Toby reached for Spencer's hand as they walked up to their front door, "You ready?"

Spencer accepted his gesture, lacing their fingers together as she carried her suitcase, "Ready. Home sweet home."

Fumbling with the key, Toby smiled at her, "It will be once we do some serious revamping."

"Hey," Spencer stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, "It already is. Want to know why?"

"Why?" Toby flung the door open, holding it for her.

"Because you're here. If you weren't it'd just be a big, scary, smelly old house."

Pecking her lips, Toby followed her inside, searching blindly for the light switch, " After you. I love you. What do you say we leave the unpacking for tomor-"

"SURPRISE!"

Screaming, Spencer jumped behind Toby, peeking out behind him. He looked equally as startled, holding Spencer's suitcase in front of them like a shield as if a fire breathing dragon was standing in their foyer.

Laughing, Hanna Marin reached out to hug her friends, a sea of people behind her with streamers, noise makers and beverages. There was an extravagant "Welcome Home!" sign tacked up above the stairs with Aria's signature handy work, and there were balloons tied to the stairwell leading upstairs.

"Welcome back, honeymooners!" Hanna beamed, whispering into Spencer's ear, "I can't wait to hear the 911 on whether or not you used the 70 Positions book I gave you."

"411, Han," Spencer correcter, "What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, this?" Hanna waved about tipsily, "Just a little sha-bang for the couple that's been away doing the bang-bang. I hope you were surprised!"

"Oh," Toby gulped, "You could say that," he waved politely, "Hi, everyone. Uh...welcome to our...home. It's in the process of being renovated but make yourselves comfortable," he noticed the couple kissing on one of their couches, "Which, looks like you've already done."

Spencer gasped, hissing into Toby's ear, "That is my Nana's couch!"

Hanna giggled, elbowing Caleb, "That's not what _we _call it."

Aria took over, always one to pick up on Spencer's feelings. Looping her arm through Spencer's she guided her into the living room, "Just an FYI, this was not my idea. It was Hanna's. But in her defense, she didn't know this many people were coming. I guess that's what happens when you post 'Party' on a social networking site. Sorry. If you want, I can start booting people."

Toby was already being pulled in by Ezra and Caleb, who were engaging in high fives, fist pounds and nonchalant glances at Spencer. She could only imagine what they were discussing and cringed, mortified. To confirm her guess, Caleb nodded at her, winking, before shoving a drink in Toby's hand.

"No," Spencer sighed, "Who am I to put a plug in the party. But I would really appreciate you prying those people- who are they?- off of my Nana's sofa."

Aria hugged her, "Of course," she smiled, squeezing Spencer's hands, "I'm so glad you're back! Be right back."

Pouring herself a drink, Spencer contemplated raising it to her lips, but after getting a whiff of it, she dumped it back into the punch bowl, dusting off her hands. Emily and Maya made their way to her, hand in hand, both smiling knowingly at her.

"Sooooo," Emily dragged out, "How was it?"

"A nightmare."

"What?" Maya blinked, "Tell me you're kidding!"

"It began with us getting lost, and our car breaking down, and ended with my face being swallowed up by a mysterious food allergy. So no. I'm not kidding."

Shoving a chip in her mouth, Emily shook her head, "Oh, come on! It couldn't have been that bad!" she motioned to Toby, who was eyeing Spencer, "Toby looks happy. There had to have been something good about it if he looks that elated."

"Yeah," Maya giggled, "The sex!"

Accompanying Emily and Maya in a giggle fit, Spencer licked her lips, passing Toby a quick glance. She turned away so he couldn't see her expression, nodding at the girls, giving a thumbs up, "Mind blowing."

Hanna and Aria budged into their circle, leaning on each other, Hanna looking completely wasted at this point.

"So did you two ever leave your room? You know, once your hellish nightmare was repaired?" Aria pried.

Shrugging her shoulders, Spencer couldn't wash away the dreamy smile that took over her face, "Yeah. We did some sight seeing-"

Hanna whistled, "I bet you did. You saw London, he saw France, you saw his under-"

Holding up her hand, Spencer ignored her blonde friend, "We went rafting, took some leisurely walks by the stream, did some damage to our checking account, went horseback riding...it was actually really nice. Despite our little problems we did enjoy it. It was hard coming home."

"I bet," Aria nodded, "I can relate. Ezra and I never wanted to come back from our honeymoon. I'd much rather deal with the intermissions of room service instead of my in-laws. Just wait. You think you've got it bad now...wait until your mother-in-law, who totally hates you, starts sitting you down for dinners. The subject of these dinners? The infamous 'When are you going to start supplying me with Grandchildren' talk. It's terrible."

Choking on the pretzel she'd been munching on, Spencer shook her head rapidly. "Oh, no, no. Toby and I won't be having any babies. Not for a while. A long, long while."

"Please," Emily laughed, "You two would have the cutest kids. I bet Toby's already thought about it. I give it a year before you start getting baby fever. Tops."

Hanna pulled out a twenty from her purse, "I'll Abe Lincoln you that it's within the next month."

Snatching away the bill, Spencer glared. "That would be Andrew Jackson and I really don't appreciate you two gambling over when my biological clock starts ticking, thank you very much! Now! If you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

Maya, Aria and Emily glared at Hanna, who hiccuped, "Was it something I said?"

* * *

A few upbeat songs of Hanna's selection had played before Toby began looking around for his wife. Last he had seen her, she'd been laughing with her girls, so he'd continued in manly talk with the guys, telling them of his plans to fix this place up.

Fishing through the crowd of people- most of which he didn't even recognize- he set down his cup on the kitchen counter. Unzipping his jacket, he nodded at one of his friends from work as he congratulated him, shaking his hand, before continuing down the hallway. Finding the light on leading upstairs, Toby followed it, wondering who he'd have to boot out of their bedroom.

It wasn't a couple he found upstairs, however. Curled up on their love seat in the room that was eventually reserved for her office space, she was staring drowsily at the floor. Hearing the floorboards creak, Spencer looked up, offering Toby a tight lipped smile.

"Hey."

Toby pushed his hands in his pockets, leaning against the door frame. He looked around the room, trying to get an idea of how nice it would look when he and Spencer were finished with it. Letting his eyes fall back on Spencer, he pushed himself off of the frame, plopping down on the love seat and pulling her onto his lap.

"Hi. I was wondering where you disappeared to. You know it's not very nice to blow off our own party. You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired," Spencer half-lied. To be honest, she really wasn't sure what was bothering her. Maybe she was just overly sensitive right now because she was tired from their travels, "I don't think I've earned the status of cool kid to stick around much longer. Large gatherings isn't really my style, unless it's a Harry Potter convention."

Snorting, Toby nuzzled his head against hers, kissing the side of her face, "Oh God, I've married a nerd."

"Like you didn't know that before! Besides, who doesn't want to be a wizard?"

"I've got other things on my list I'd much rather be," Toby said earnestly, playing with her hair.

Gulping, Spencer's mind drifted back to Hanna and Emily's little bet, before shaking it off entirely. Settling against him, she let her eyes rest, inhaling his scent, "I love you, Toby."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"Time for the toast!" Hanna screamed, looking around, "Who is ready?"

"Uh, Han. In order to toast to the couple you sort of need the couple. We can't find them," Ezra mentioned, lowering his glass.

As Aria, Caleb and Emily began searching for Spencer and Toby downstairs, Hanna wandered upstairs with Maya.

"Hanna!" Maya beckoned in a raised whisper, "Found them."

Hanna stumbled towards Maya, leaning against the door frame. Smiling at the scene before them, Hanna turned to Maya.

Maya smiled back, "Should we wake them?"

"No," Hanna looked back at the couple, their arms around each other, Toby holding Spencer against him protectively, both completely out, "Let them sleep-"

"For when they wake they will move mountains," Maya finished softly.

Heading into Spencer and Toby's bedroom and grabbing a blanket from their mattress, Hanna tucked it over the couple, pulling out her phone to take a quick picture, before turning out the light and shutting the door behind her.


	4. Paint Me a Picture

**_Alright guys. Here you go! I know I haven't updated in a while. I apologize. I have two larger than life exams I've been prepping for and they are of utmost importance. Once they are out of the way? I am all yours. Well, 3/4's yours :p_**

**_I thank you once again for the amazing reviews and love you all dearly. I also wanted to especially thank phoenix9648 who is an all around wonderful gal and friend. If you haven't read her stories, I suggest you do so! :) You will not be sorry. Also, if you haven't read the great Marcella's stories, you are seriously missing out! Go ahead and give her story The Sound of Heaven Pulling Me Down a read. _**

**_Here is my only concern and it seems to be ongoing. I've pleaded, I've asked nicely, I've enlisted some spies, even. But my work continues to get stolen and I've had enough. I'm not going to point the finger publicly, because I honestly believe this person is doing this unconsciously; as we all read each others' work and maybe it just sticks as others work on their own stories? I'm giving those who continue to steal from me the benefit of the doubt, hoping that it is purely accidental, but there are multiple similarities and even lines that have been taken from my last chapter so I'm a bit iffy here. I'm asking again: PLEASE STOP STEALING MY MATERIAL. STOP STEALING MY LINES. STOP STEALING MY HANNA JOKES. If you're unaware of it, just check your updates before you post them. Unintentional or not, stealing is still stealing. Let's start practicing internet etiquette, shall we? It's plain rude to take the work of others and claim credit for it. It not only disgusts me, but many of my readers. _**

**_I apologize to those who have never deliberately taken anything from me because you have to read this AGAIN and I know it gets old; but so does seeing my work outside of my own establishments. So does seeing someone get a positive review for a joke I came up with/used and what not. Sharing is caring, but stealing is not appealing. :) _**

**_Anyways, I do hope you are enjoying this prequel. I also hope you understand some of the jokes I've included in this chapter and you know who Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd and Yogi are. If not, I feel extremely old and google is now your best friend in life. Without further commercials...I now present you with your feature presentation. You'll find beverages and snacks at the concession stand. Please turn off all electronic devices, recline, and read. _**

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Paint Me a Picture_**

Taking a much needed break from his labor of love- building a love seat, shelves and a desk for Spencer's office- Toby dusted some sawdust off of his jeans and fastened his measuring tape securely to his tool belt.

A whole three weeks had passed since their unforgettable honeymoon, and Toby had wasted no time in making use out of his carpentry skills while Spencer got back into the routine of her semester load. Lucky for him, she only had classes three days a week. While most of her classes were in the morning and fawning out into the late afternoon, he typically didn't go to work until later on in the day. This left little time for them to interact during the week. Most of the time he would have lunch ready for her once she came bursting through the front door, groaning about how much homework she had. He'd sit with her and massage her feet while she ate, always attempting to strike up a conversation; though lately he hadn't been too successful. Poor Spencer was dished with a full plate of classes to the point she wasn't much of a chatter once her coffee high switched gears into a low and she crashed. They barely had any time together before he'd head off to his work site in the other town, and typically by the time he arrived home she was already in bed; her textbooks sprawled out serving as her pillow. He'd usually shower and carry her up to their bedroom and tuck her in, before going to bed himself.

In the mornings they made a great amount of effort, though it was usually so hustle-bustle, to have breakfast together. Still, unless it was the weekend, the newlyweds were now faced with a common life-challenge; not enough time for intimacy. It's not that they hadn't tried lately, it's just that Spencer was so overwhelmed with school being a transfer student and an overachiever that their foreplay would never achieve a home run.

The bills were starting to pour in and they were definitely hurting a little since Spencer was not currently employed. Toby had been working overtime as much as possible, picking up shifts when he could. Today he'd gotten the day off, and with the little allowances he and Spencer had, he was constructing Spencer's dream office. There were other rooms in the house that needed more love than this one, but Toby made this particular space his top priority. The kitchen, the bathrooms, their backyard could all wait.

Deciding to check in on his full-time-student-spouse, Toby searched under the rubble of plywood for his cellphone. His fingers went to work like Santa's elves as their Christmas deadlines approached, Spencer's answer like milk and cookies after traveling through a bitter night of frostbite and bells.

_How can you make my day better? By being completely naked when I get home. In bed. That would significantly improve my day.- Spencer_

"Shocked face, winky face, meow, exclamation mark...backspace...rawwrr," Toby narrated as he texted her back. Looking at his text, he groaned, "Too feminine."

_**I'm sorry babe. Love you.- Toby **_

Toby headed for the shower; intent on smelling a little less like roadkill or looking like George of the Jungle when his wife arrived home. After lathering his sand-dust coated skin with Irish-Spring, Toby applied some Axe cologne to his chest and wrapped himself in a towel. The tub shaped clock on above the sink indicated that Spencer would be home any minute and Toby decided to ditch the towel altogether.

He would do anything to take some stress off of her shoulders, and if that meant shining in all of his glory, he would do it. Hastily ripping apart the roses Spencer had lounging in a vase on their nightstand, Toby scattered the pedals about their king-sized bed. Hearing the door downstairs creak open and Spencer call out his name, Toby dived onto their bed like he was training for the Olympics. He stroke as manly of a pose as he could manage given the situation, debating whether or not to keep the coconut shell pillow in front of his manhood. Toby's blood began pumping at the anticipation of her making the discovery once she willed herself upstairs.

* * *

Climbing the stairs with Hanna on her tail, Spencer began apologizing profusely for the construction zone their home had become- promising that the master bedroom was a testimonial to what the rest would look like eventually when funding and time permitted. The warm earthy tones she and Toby had selected- mint greens and chocolates- were hard to describe to Hanna; whose knowledge of color was limited to primary colors, pink, purple, and "hell no brown", so Spencer decided that since they'd been on campus for a late breakfast anyways, Spencer would bring her best friend over for a quick tour.

As the duo rounded the corner, Hanna peered into the "coming soon" attraction Toby had been working his fingers to the bone over all morning.

"What's this going to be? The Landfill zone? Don't you guys have a garbage bin outside?"

"This," Spencer pulled back the plastic curtaining, "Right now looks like a war zone, but is reserved for my office. I'm having Toby install a chalk wall on this side, shelving on the opposite, and he's making me the window seat I've been dying to kick back in since childhood. Looks like he's made some serious progress today. The poor guy has been grinding non stop in between shifts."

Hanna turned up her nose, fanning away some residual granules of debris. "Compared to what? This is like Extreme Home Makeover: Bulldozer Edition."

"Excuse me! I'll have you know, Miss Demolishes-gates-and-mailboxes-as-she-backs-out-of-the-driveway-every-afternoon, that my husband is a fine carpenter devoted to his craft. You have to tear it up before you can start nailing away and getting to the good part."

Hanna bit her thumb, following Spencer down the dimly lit hallway, "He tears it up, huh? I think it's time you admit that Toby is good with his hands. How much have you two been going at it like rabbits since you came home from your Honeymoon, anyways?"

"I've implied that several times both while under the influence of Rum and sober. I don't know if rabbits would be the correct noun here. I've been so engorged in my studies and him in work and house maintenance. I haven't had much time to hop his carrot lately."

Giggling, Hanna placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer giggled, too, pushing the door to her bedroom open.

There was a heavy line of cursing exchanged in the atmosphere as the girls feasted their eyes on Toby au naturel followed by an attempt of frantic concealment and Toby's carrot rooting back into the soil in shame as he grabbed every pillow within reach. His face was about as bright as Spencer's lipstick, but Hanna hadn't torn her eyes from his southern region since they discovered what was behind curtain number three.

" Here's your chance, Spence. What's up, Doc?"

Fumbling over words, Spencer settled on shouting out his name. "Toby!"

"Shit! Spencer! You could have warned me we'd be having company before you sent a suggestive text my way!"

"I wasn't being serious! Hanna! Avert your eyes!"

Hanna pried Spencer's hands away, biting her lip, "Hey, no need to censor this program! We're all adults here. Even though suddenly I feel like a thirteen-year-old meeting Justin Bieber for the first time."

"My goal was to lose my clothes, not my dignity."

Hanna peered in between Spencer's fingers, grinning. "So it is true then? I think I've just confirmed a nymph-"

"Myth," Spencer corrected, "And I'd really appreciate it if you stopped raping my husband with your eyes! You've already got an unhealthy obsession with his six pack and I don't mean the Heineken he's got in the cooler."

"...that it's true what they say: Big hands, big feet, big co-"

"COFFEE!" Spencer yelped, pushing Hanna out of the door, before slamming the door behind her.

"Nice seeing you, Toby!" Hanna yelled as Spencer pushed her down the hallway, practically tumbling down the stairs, "And pleasure meeting Toby Jr. Although, there's nothing _Junior_ about him!"

"Hanna!"

* * *

Once Hanna was forced to walk the plank, Spencer bolted back upstairs. Her stomach was performing an acrobatic routine, her skin suddenly flushed. She couldn't have shoveled Hanna out of the door fast enough, eager to return to her personal Hercules up at Mt. Olympus. She'd skipped every other step before throwing the door to their room open, panting.

To her disappointment, Toby was no longer showcasing himself on their bed. He had his jeans back on, buckling his belt by the time Spencer managed to reach him. Pushing him down onto the bed, Spencer straddled his lap, tugging on his belt.

"If I had known you'd take my playful suggestion seriously I would have never invited Hanna over. Toby, I'm really, truly sorry about that little invasion of privacy, but I can assure you; she is gone now. You can take these off."

Toby grabbed her wrists, holding them between their bodies firmly. He refused to meet her eyes, indicating that he was much more embarrassed than he was leading on, making Spencer feel extremely guilty.

"Actually," he coughed, " Due to Elmer Fudd's surprise pop-in, the big bear has retreated back into the depths of the cave to hibernate for the winter."

Pouting, Spencer pushed her hips against his, "Well, maybe it's a short winter? Can the big bear come back out for a picnic with Yogi?"

Lifting Spencer off of him, Toby evacuated the room- knowing that he could easily be swayed by getting a whiff of her perfume or a few more pouts, but he was honestly so mortified right now he didn't even want to be near Spencer at the moment.

"I've got work to finish."

"Toby-"

"It's fine. You've got homework anyways."

Paying a quick glance to her backpack, Spencer groaned, "I do."

Shuffling into the office, Spencer wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his bare back. She nuzzled into his warm skin, closing her eyes as the scent of his body-wash filled her nostrils.

"I really am sorry, Toby. If there's any way I can make it up to you..." her hands scuba-dived back to his belt buckle, "Any way at all..."

Toby once again pried her hands away, turning to face her and plant a quick kiss on her cheek, "I've got to get the shelves installed before I go into work in an hour."

Disappointed on both ends, the pair went back to their respective routines before Toby headed off to the site that kept his paycheck ransom. Left alone, Spencer curled up in bed and let sleep wash over her body- like she'd done many times in the last few weeks.

* * *

Adding on one last layer of paint before replacing the dripping brush back onto the canister, Spencer struck a pose against the wall. Toby's Timberland steel-toe boots clunked against the hardwood floors. The floorboards creaked as weight was applied to them, indicating that he was zooming in on his target rapidly.

After another day of grueling classes, Spencer had the day off. She'd spent most of it cleaning up around the house, tacking up dream furniture from Ikea catalogues into her makeshift office while hers was under construction; the kitchen. Her office was ready for painting, and even though she'd had the color schemes mapped out for months, she'd grabbed every barrel of paint that was just lying around the house and asked Toby politely to come upstairs for an opinion.

He'd just gotten off of a short shift, and was pretty cranky. Heck, he'd been easily irritable and distant since the Hanna incident. Spencer was ready for a change. Her sexual frustrations were mounting up, threatening what little sanity she had left over after classes that week. What she was doing was pretty bold, and she hoped it would go over as well as it had in her head.

Hearing the sound of the plastic being whisked aside as Toby made his grand entrance in his work attire, Spencer tried to mask her grin.

"I'm here, what is it you needed my opinion..." Toby's eyes drank Spencer in from head to toe, "On. Holy shit."

Spencer kept up her little charade, her expression serious as she pointed a brush at the wall behind her, one hand coming under her chin in an attempt to look philosophical.

"I was thinking maybe we'd go with this shade...of turquoise on this wall and then maybe accent it with this trim. But then I got to thinking, why turn the wall into a test easel when I can just use my body instead?"

She stepped towards him, her hips swaying as she reached for his hand, "I thought maybe you could check out my color samples and let me know your preference."

Toby just about sank through the floor. His heart was all at once light but heavy with desire, and it was suddenly wearing him down; anchoring him there into solitary captivity. There wasn't an area of Spencer's body- from his view- that wasn't painted in an assortment of colors, save her face; though that even had speckles of stray paint like little freckles. And he was almost positive that despite the illusion the paint gave off, Spencer was completely nude under her little festival of colors. Suddenly the collar of his shirt was restricting.

Spencer took his gawking silence as a green light and sauntered even closer. Circling around him like an edacious vulture in the desert, Spencer purred at him.

"I've been thinking about what I could do when you got home to make everything up to you from the other day. I couldn't wait for you to get home so I could repay you for your troubles. So, what will it be?"

Toby's eyes lingered in at her chest before once again surveying every inch of her, moistening his plump lips. His calloused hand traced her right hip, running up the trail to her bellybutton with one finger, rising it up along the valley before circling back around and cupping her buttocks.

"Mmm, I like this one," he raised his free hand to her neck, tracing down to her breast, "But I think I'd better test them out first. See how they look."

The amount of rolling they embarked in as he pressed her back harshly against the white wall transformed the white into various shades. Each time he pushed her against the wall she'd grow weak in the knees, his hands exploring parts of her that hadn't been explored in so long, making her whimper. In turn, every time she had the power, pushing him against the wall, she removed another article of clothing until Toby was nude.

Their lips wrestling for dominance, Toby and Spencer soon migrated towards the floor, where a large white protective sheet was waiting for them. Spencer's right leg thrown around his waist, her heel digging into the back of his thigh, she cupped his face tenderly as his tongue circled hers. Toby, now covered in his wife's paint, reached down to lift her leg higher, not able to control the strolling of his hands.

The tarp was now a mixture of colors; Spencer and Toby's bodies rolling about in a sea of fiery passion. They stayed there until the paint started drying and cracking on their skin, Spencer's fingers leaving trails of new colors along his shoulder blades as he rocked against her.

Hand-prints smeared all over down the long hallway into the master bathroom as they traveled, they were making quite the mess and would have to pay for it later. But the shower they had just stepped into in order to clean up was so worth it. Neither of them had to suggest moving things to the shower to kill two birds with one stone; they were on the same page as he lifted Spencer and wrapped her legs around his waist, his lips still fused with hers.

Toby pushed her against the cool tiles as the steam from their shower rose up from the ground. She moaned loudly at the contact, moaning again as Toby's fingers dug into her thighs aggressively enough to leave bruises. The back of her skull hit the wall as he put her out of her misery and she cursed into his mouth. The love marks and bruises all over her skin were visible now as the wave of paint waterfall-ed down the drain. She'd heard about obtaining injuries while engaging in intercourse from the girls, but Toby was always so gentle that she'd never gotten them before. Now there were no restrictions; both were tugging roughly at one another's skin. His hands were pulling harshly on her hair and Spencer was returning the favor, causing him to express himself vocally with a very limited vocabulary multiple times, his neck arched. The grip he had on her served as insurance that she would not be slipping and falling anytime soon, though that was normally a hazard that came with shower fun time.

The medley of colors bleeding from their skin, both Spencer and Toby began to seriously reconsider the intervals between intimacy sessions; because never had it been this electrifying. All of their frustrations pent up, it was more than just a festival of colors now; it was a parade with fireworks bursting overhead. They hadn't had a chance to formerly introduce themselves to their new neighbors, but now as they were testing out the acoustics in the bathroom like they were starring in Singing in the Rain, everyone on the block would surely know Toby's name. **(Unintentional rhyme. See what I did there?)**

**See that review box below? It's calling for you. Don't leave it hanging! You know what do to ;) **


	5. Something's Gotta Give

**_Chapter 5: Something's Gotta Give_**

**_((This chapter features a bit of a time jump. Hope you'll all go with it.)) _**

* * *

A freshly brewed cup of Colombian energy toasting her palm, Spencer let her nose rest over the top of the seductive waves of coffee beans and inhaled. When she and Toby were residing comfortably, but cramped, in Toby's loft above The Brew, the apartment always smelled of coffee- so much so that Spencer's clothing always had that lingering aroma of good morning that traveled with her to her classes. Here in their large house, the fragrance funneled through the lower level, but it had a fear of climbing stairs apparently. Spencer had been joking with Toby for months now about purchasing coffee inspired candles for their bedroom and her office. She'd even added it to their grocery list on the chalk board wall Toby had installed in their kitchen.

The renovations in their humble adobe had been coming along nicely, and at a decent pace considering limits on their set aside allowances. Still, she knew that they had years ahead of them to fully model and update this home with their own preferences. Giggling, she thought about how the highlight of her week had been the installation of a Brazilian Bronze light fixture in their bedroom.

It was funny how much had changed since she and Toby had officially tied the knot. And yet, so much between them remained comfortably the same. He was the constant she needed in life and he made her transition into being his sweetheart to becoming his wife so much easier for her. That's not to say they hadn't had their moments in the five months they'd now been married, but Toby made her forget about the stresses of the outside world. Money wasn't exactly their strongest point right now, but he was doing everything he could to take care of her so she could remain in school and pursue her degree to teach children.

They'd been through five blissful months...five months that were oddly perfect, so perfect, Spencer wasn't sure if this good luck streak would last, or if something terrible was about to ambush her. Something had to give sometime.

Bringing the dark liquid to her lips for some indulgence, Spencer cocked her head to the side to gain a new perspective of the item hanging in her now furnished, fully functioning office. Among the perfectly paired shades of the walls and decorative pillows on the L shaped window seat, it looked so out of place.

The tingling in the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with how famished she was as she waited for Toby to finish dressing, but everything to do with what her eyes were processing.

Extending her hand to the manilla tarp-covered in dry paint of various color schemes -Spencer thought how much this artwork she and Toby had created looked like a snow-angel. A shiver took an elevator ride up her spine as memories of that passionate night bulldozed her thoughts; the sensation of the cold paint coating her skin contrasting with Toby's warm body moving against hers. She was so heavily possessed by the recollection of that night that she failed to hear Toby's approaching footsteps.

His arms looping around her waist, Toby pressed a greeting against the side of Spencer's neck. Settling his chin on her shoulder, his focus zoned in on the exhibit of her fascination. A sound of amusement emanated from his throat at the flashback.

"That was a really, really good night. We should do it again sometime. I'm thinking the man-cave needs painting next."

"I thought you were content with the color schemes the previous owners left in that room."

Toby nuzzled against her hair, "I am. I'm just looking for an excuse to express ourselves artistically again."

"It looks so out of place in here."

"It's a pleasant memento of our love for one another."

"I think we should relocate it. Maybe to the garage?"

His eyes widening, Toby loosened his lock around her body, exhaling dramatically. "You want to shun our labor of love? Why not just put it in my man cave?"

"I'm just thinking of when we start having visitors, Toby. How are we going to explain to them the outline of my rear and the path of hand-prints " Spencer fought back, taking another sip of her coffee.

"Seeing as only real men are allowed in that room, I don't see why it's a problem. Aside from Ezra and Caleb, and maybe a few guys from work, who is going to see it in there, Spence? C'mon."

Turning around, Spencer knitted her brows. "Alright, alright. Fine. You can keep it on display in your private quarters where you engage shamelessly in video games, the consumption of beer and Twinkies and God knows what else. Just get it out of my work space so that I can come in here without being sidetracked from completing my homework, okay? The sooner the better."

Pausing, she straightened Toby's tie, "I thought your face felt smoother. You were beginning to resemble that man in Jumanji for a while. Do you feel naked without your manly facial hair? Any less of a man?"

Against Spencer's preferences, Toby had been hosting a fuzz party on his face. It started off as him being too lazy to shave, but he and his coworkers decided to make a contest out of it to see who could grow their beards faster. Spencer had been fine with the fuzz, but when she started finding leftovers from their dinners and could barely see his lips through the quickly growing facial bush, she provided Toby with an ultimatum: Either he shaved immediately or he was no longer permitted to kiss her.

He'd put up with plenty of shit at work that morning when he announced almost inaudibly that he had to withdraw from the competition; his boss, Troy, exclaiming that Toby was "whipped."

Removing the coffee from his wife's hands, Toby once again took her into his arms, gazing down as he teased him, "I do feel naked. I feel like you stripped me of my manhood. But," he kissed her forehead, "I'd much rather kiss you again than win a round of drinks."

Toying with the collar of his dress shirt, Spencer lowered her teeth onto her bottom lip. He looked so handsome in his formal wear that she almost wanted to take up his invitation to recreate their masterpiece of a few months ago. Still, they had somewhere to be. Toby was being awarded employee of the month for his hard work and dedication to his craft at his current place of employment, and they were to attend a ceremony in his-and his other coworkers'-honor. Spencer couldn't have been more proud when he brought home the details, though Toby was pretty modest about it.

Toby watched as Spencer's eyes roamed his suit, his face; how she bit her lip. Whenever she did that he was subjugated to the urge to kiss her, and he was pretty sure that by now she knew it was a sure way to get him wound up.

"You look very, very pretty," he remarked earnestly.

Spencer's eyes raised up to dance with his. She smiled back, tinkering with his tie again.

"You also look very pretty."

Toby raised a brow, poking at her hip bone, "I look pretty? Isn't that a little feminine?"

Throwing her arms around his neck, Spencer shook her head, fighting off a grin. "You're so pretty."

"I think the word you're searching for is handsome, Spence."

"No. That's what I would say to a man...but according to you, real men sport jungles on their faces and you-"

She was interrupted from her mockery as Toby threw her over his shoulder, barreling down the hallway to their bedroom. Gripping his trousers, Spencer yelped that she was in a skirt and this was very unladylike.

"You little!" Toby laughed, "I shaved it for you! You're going to be severely punished! I'm going to grow it back and run around in a loin cloth and pound on my chest. And I will refuse to put the seat down in the bathroom."

As her back bounced onto their bed, she was already reaching up to remove him from his shirt, unfastening his buttons in record speed, "I don't expect a follow up to that threat."

Toby wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, kneeling over her, "Don't doubt me, woman. You can't insult me and expect a free admittance to Club Tobias. Say I'm handsome and I'll give you a VIP pass."

"Toby, you are insanely..."

He waited, nodding to encourage her continuation.

Deciding to push her luck, Spencer grinned devilishly, "Pretty."

His advancements to her ribs as he tickled her mercilessly were of no surprise, and Spencer was joyously getting a taste of what was meant to be her own medicine.

"Toby!" she squealed as he targeted her belly, "We're going to be late!"

"Damn straight we are, but that's on you, because we're not leaving until you correct your compliment...which by the way, is severely putting a dent into my ego and is really more of an insult at this point. Just one word. One word and you're free."

"You know how I hate being late!"

"Oh, I know it infuriates you to the highest degree, but that's just too bad."

Pondering, Toby scratched at his chin, "Maybe I should grow a mustache too. Oh! I could grow it out and then curl the tops of it so it's one of those handle bar mustaches. What do you think about dreadlocks? I was considering-"

"Okay, okay!" Spencer surrendered breathlessly, "I'll say it! I'll say it!"

As soon as Toby eased off from his tickling spell, Spencer opened her mouth to give him exactly what he'd been dying to hear.

"You," she purred, tugging on his tie to annihilate the space between their bodies, "Are so," she loosened his tie, undoing it altogether, "Undeniably, unforgettably, insanely, crazy...handsome."

The smile painted on Toby's face over his minor victory quickly morphed so that he could smash his lips against hers. Grabbing at her waist, he anchored a hand under her back, the other used as a pulley to situate them higher up on their bed.

Muffled periodically by Toby's lips, Spencer panted out a reminder of their time constrictions. "We're going to be late..."

"We'll just be fashionably late."

Toby had pinned her arms above her head when a familiar buzz went off from the nightstand to the left of them. Cursing her home phone's existence, Spencer carefully eased herself up and over to answer. Toby ignored the interruption completely, towering over her, complimenting her neck with his tongue as he teased the skin under her earlobe.

"H-hello?"

Spencer put her hand over the receiver, kicking her husband for his distractions, "Toby! I'm on the phone!"

Resuming her answer, Spencer spoke into the receiver again, apologizing for the delay in conversation.

Toby continued to parade all over her neck with his mouth like her skin was a street on the Fourth of July, but Spencer batted him away as the person on the other line delivered some bone-chilling news.

"This is her...what? What do you mean? No...no..." she sat up, a hand over her mouth, "Are you sure? When did this happen?"

Toby looked at her with concern, noting that her eyes were stained with worried tears, "Spencer? What is it?"

"What? Melissa, slow down! Okay. Okay! No, I'll be there. I'm on my way!"

Throwing the phone back down to end the call, Spencer looked over at her confused husband. "That was Melissa. It's my Dad."

Watching her carefully, Toby extended a hand to her shoulder. "Is he alright?"

"He just suffered a myocardial infarction and was rushed to the hospital."

Blinking, Toby racked his brain, not entirely sure that that meant.

"He had a heart attack." Spencer expanded weakly.

Spencer was back in Toby's arms within a blink, and she clung to him to suppress her sobs, "Things were going so well and now..." she sniffled, "I need to go be with him, with my mom. I'm so sorry."

Watching as Spencer retreated from his embrace and threw on a jacket, Toby stood up, following her down the hall, "I'll drive."

"Toby," Spencer argued, "Don't be ridiculous-"

"Spencer, I am not letting your drive in this condition and he's just as much my Dad now as he is yours. I'm going with you."

"What about your award ceremony?"

"It's not important."

"It's kind of a big deal, Toby! You should be there."

"Spencer," Toby grabbed her elbows, forcing her to look at him, his tone heavy with determination, "Spencer, it's just an outdone buffet that will probably result in the spread of food borne-illnesses, where I'll be presented a tacky little certificate. It is nothing. You, on the other hand, are everything. I know it's in your nature to argue with me, but I'm going with you. This is one argument you're not going to win. End of discussion!"

"Toby I-"

"Spencer, get in the car!"

Streetlights aglow were nothing but blurs of light now as Toby zipped down the streets of Rosewood towards en route to the hospital. It was almost symbolic to her life, in a way; how fast the past few years, the past few months in particular had sped by. She wanted so desperately to stop the car, to stop the car that was her life and reach out and grab those moments that had whisked by.

She wanted to go back and make more time for Toby. For her father.

She was uncertain how much time in the present and future she'd have with her Dad, and the guilt of never really initiating the repair of their relationship after she switched colleges regardless of his disapproval was now devastating her stomach. She had never experienced car sickness before, but she was experiencing it now.

Toby's hand searched for hers in the dark as he tucked his truck in between a Volvo and a Honda.

"Hey," he whispered, not letting her get out quite yet, wanting to shield her from the chaos they were sure to meet once inside the hospital wing, "Take a deep breath. It's going to be okay."

If there was nothing else in the world Spencer could rely on for truth, it was Toby. She wanted so badly to believe him, despite the overwhelming relay of statistics pouring through her head like cereal falling into a bowl on a Saturday morning.

"Promise?"

In their wedding vows, Toby had made several promises to Spencer, ones he fully intended on keeping. This one, however, was out of his hands completely. Still, he made a promise to her that he'd stay by her side, that he'd do whatever he could to protect her; to be her safety bar through the roller-coasters of life.

Swallowing, Toby provided her with a smile that was filled with enough strength and optimism for the both of them.

"I promise."

* * *

**_I know, I know! I haven't updated in forever. I apologize! Life has been crazy, what can I say? I pretty much have the next two chapters outlined and I cannot wait to share them with you. Some new and exciting- and frightening- things are about to transpire in Rosewood. How will Spencer and Toby handle them? _**

**_Don't touch that dial! Look for the next chapter within the next few days. :) I promise not to let so much time pass in between updates anymore- unless life's little emergencies decide to pop up and surprise me, I fully intend on updating more regularly. _**

**_You guys have been awesome and I adore your reviews; please keep them coming in and I'll keep my chapters popping out! _**

**_((12 reviews gets you a chapter by Tuesday)) _**

**_How is everyone holding up? Are we still recovering from the summer finale? Are we still breathing? Has anyone purchased a flight to LA yet to sob to Marlene? _**


	6. Ducklings in a Decade

**_Chapter 6: Ducklings in a Decade_**

As we grow, we don't just grow physically. We grow intellectually. We grow emotionally. We grow socially. We grow through many stages.

Once we were nothing more than a speck the size of a peanut inside our mother's womb, and yet we as a little nothings meant everything to our makers. Following birth, we rely heavily on our parents, and as we grow through pre-adolescence, we look to them for comfort, nutritional care, guidance, and unconditional love to transition from boys and girls into ladies and men. With age comes the determination to seek independence from those who raised us, wanting nothing more to break free of how parents want us to grow up, to how we want to naively live. And then? After we hit our high and our low, it is our parents who lean on_ us_ for care. We, the children, become the parents to our parents. They, like us, are often resistant to the role-reversal, but it is very much a part of life.

The egg becomes the chicken.

The student becomes the teacher.

The athlete becomes the coach.

The prodigy becomes the mentor.

The outcast becomes the idol.

The child becomes the parent.

Despite the astonishing evolvement that occurs throughout the span of our lives -the ups, the downs, the alterations in relationships for better or for worse- at the end of the day, biologically, our parents are still our parents.

Spencer and Peter Hastings had gone through many stages together in their cycle as daughter and father.

Usually not relaxed enough to even whistle a tune, Peter Hastings turned into a one-man-musical just to make his daughter laugh. Never one to show any emotion, not even to his wife, Peter Hastings became an affectionate, doting parent to both of his girls. And as Spencer grew, the money once carried in Peter's wallet was replaced with pictures of her. The proud diplomas and awards earned by his years of dedication in his education as well as profession were pushed aside to make room for pictures of family vacations, his desk becoming a museum of his children's accomplishments. He went from sporting suits to dressing in sweats to coach their little league teams.

Though he'd supported Spencer throughout her stages of growth, he hadn't always supported her emotionally as needed. Sure, he'd done a terrific job of supporting her financially, but his lack in understanding of his youngest daughter often put a strain on their relationship. While he was a master at multitasking with his professional obligations, he failed to give equal attention to his children; often choosing Melissa's activities over Spencer's. The spotlight he used to shine on Spencer as she put on puppet shows went out fast, and it was placed on Melissa as she excelled in everything from figure skating to debate club.

So Spencer stopped having tea parties. She stopped putting on impromptu puppet shows. She stopped playing dress up. Spencer stopped dancing on Peter's toes. She stopped jumping into his arms whenever he arrived home from his shift at the firm and waiting up for him to tuck her into bed. She stopped calling him Daddy.

Still, while he hadn't always been there the way she wanted, Spencer often recalled the earlier years. She remembered how one time the actress her mother had scheduled for her princess themed soiree cancelled, so Peter dressed up - gown, makeup, crown and all - to cheer her up. He subjected himself to complete devastation amidst a handful of parents with high titles and their snobby offspring, just to put a smile on Spencer's face.

Although Peter didn't always give her the support she'd long for, mainly when it came to her young marriage to Toby and her decision to alter her degree, he bought Spencer and Toby their house. So, as Spencer gathered the courage to step into Peter's hospital room, she decided it was time to make up for lost time by buying them more time together. All the mistakes he'd made over the years seemed to be water under the bridge now as her father rested in that hospital bed.

Just like Peter would have to clean out his system and start-a-new with his diet and physical habits, Spencer decided right then and there that now was the time to clean their past full of animosity for the sake of their future.

"Daddy?"

For the first time in years, she called him Daddy again.

"Hey, kiddo," he blinked a few times at her attire, smiling, "You didn't have to get all dressed up to visit me!"

Spencer didn't appreciate his humor. Playing with the blazer Toby had thrown over her shoulders in an attempt to cease her shivering, Spencer narrowed her eyes at her father.

"You gave us quite the scare tonight."

Reaching out for the cup supplied on his tray, Peter coughed once more.

Spencer was quick on her feet, pouring him some water from the hospital pitcher, grabbing a straw to accompany his refreshment. Leaning over, she supplied him with an assisted slurp, eliminating the chalk sensation in Peter's throat.

"Thanks, sport. I'm starving! Following my discharge, I think I'll pay the burger pub down the street a visit."

Groaning, Spencer folded her arms. "Is this just some big joke to you? Do you even think of us when you're raising that sickening pound of grease to your lips?"

"Honestly, all I can think about is how appealing it looks. Spencer, what's this about? I'm fine. See? Your good old man will be out of here in no time."

"This time! You're fine _this time!_ What about next time? It's about Mom! It's about Melissa! It's about the Taylor! It's about me! It's about the necessary changes you need to make to improve your quality of life so you can be there as we continue to live ours!"

"Spencer, I had no idea my poor habits affected you so profoundly," Peter insisted.

"Yeah, well, I'm a Hastings. We don't particularly excel at showing our emotions, not even to our own reflections. Look, contrary to what you believe, I didn't come here to serve you with a lecture. Though, I am going to take this opportunity to plead with you to change your lifestyle to improve your cardiovascular health. Daddy, I live five whole minutes away; if you want a jogging buddy to motivate you, call me. If you feel like you need to dig into the cupboards for something salty, sweet and deadly, call Toby; he can install locks. I know you've made these promises to improve your health before, but don't promise yourself this time. Promise me. Do it for me. Do it for your family. Your follow up care is of extreme importance, and you can't keep taking these brushes with the Grim Reaper so lightly. Please?"

Letting his daughter's words sink in like quick sand, Peter sighed, running a hand over his eyes to conceal the weakness she'd just drawn out of him.

Sensing the break in his emotional dam, Spencer extended her hand, giving him a supportive compression, "Someday, though it will be years and years from now, maybe even a decade, Toby and I are going to give you another grandchild. I want you to be there to see it grow. I want you to dress up like a princess just to see their toothless smiles. I want them to call up their crazy, protective grandpa for tea parties or soccer tournaments. Please, promise me you'll be there? Make the changes, please! I'm groveling. I hate groveling, it's seriously cramping my style."

Peter returned her squeeze, looking earnestly up at his pleading child. "You have my word."

Pressing her lips together in a smile, Spencer bent over to kiss his cheek.

"You're not just saying that to get rid of me, are you? I'm like a mosquito; I'll keep returning and bite you until you abdicate your throne of pride and put on bug spray. Do I need to pull out my Bible app and make you take an oath? Should I get this agreement in writing? Do I need an official witness?"

That was enough to withdraw a laugh out of her father, who patted Spencer's hand fondly. "That's no necessary. My word is good."

Sharing one last affectionate glance, Spencer bid him goodnight, heading towards the exit. That wasn't before Peter called after her.

"Oh and Spencer? A decade will do. Anything before then will just put me right back in this bed."

Laughing, Spencer shut the door behind her, "Goodbye, Daddy."

Toby was patiently waiting for her in the hallway, having risen from his seat out of instinct; as if he could sense her approach and need to be in the comfort of his arms. As soon as Spencer stepped out of Peter's medical motel, he held out his arms, wide. Spencer stepped into them quickly, releasing a whimper.

She dug her fingers into his back, tugging on his shirt, inhaling and exhaling with him.

He held her in his arms for a while, as long as she needed, cupping her face when at last Spencer looked up at him. He dabbed at her tears with his thumbs, kissing her forehead.

"Let's go home now, Toby."

Covering her shoulders with his arm, Toby kissed her hair, leading them to the parking ramp. Though he knew the polite thing to do was to bid goodbye to Veronica, Melissa, and Taylor, who were taking a mental break down in the cafeteria, Toby also knew that he needed to get Spencer home and to bed. She looked positively exhausted.

He opened the door for her once they reached his truck, warming up their love mobile, rubbing her hands in his. Spencer leaned into him as a source of both heat and comfort on the drive home, trying desperately to keep her eyes propped open.

"Think we can make your award ceremony dinner still?" she threw out there sleepily.

Toby shook his head, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her appreciatively, "I'm sure it ended hours ago, sweetheart. Besides, I've already told you; I didn't want to go anyways."

She nodded against his arm, wrapping her fingers around his tightly, "Thank you, Toby."

"Spencer, I'm your husband. You never have to thank me. So, is your Dad going to be alright? How long are they keeping him?"

"Mmm, I hope so. I think my Mom's going to have to burn everything in the pantry over a bonfire and install spy cameras in every room of the house to monitor him so he doesn't sneak a cupcake or smuggle in some french fries. They're keeping him for another three days to monitor his rates and blood pressure before a discharge. His rehabilitation process is going to be heavily monitored this time. He's in for-get-your-shit-together-bootcamp this time around."

"Good," Toby decided, "He needs to make those changes so he can see our kids grow up."

"You speak as if we already have them!"

"Oh, you can't tell me you didn't include that in your lecture to him."

Blushing, Spencer sank lower in her seat, "I can neither confirm nor deny that being one of my arguments. And I may or may not have vowed that we'd wait a decade to start popping out six-packed munchkins."

Pulling into the driveway, Toby shut off the engine, pulling Spencer into his lap.

"Ten years? Our kids won't be calling me Daddy; they'll be referring to me as Old Man by then. He'll change his mind, you'll see. In two years, he and your mother both will be begging for another grandbaby. Taylor needs cousins."

Giggling as Toby lifted her out of the car, Spencer looped her arms around his neck, "Such confidence you have there, Mr. Cavanaugh. Have you forgotten he is a Hastings? We don't cave so easily."

"Oh, you do with proper persuasion and coaxing. While _he_ may be a Hastings," Toby said unlocking the front door, "_You_ are a Cavanaugh; and Cavanaughs make compromises."

"Really? Okay then, smart ass. Here's me compromising as a Cavanaugh: nine years."

"Still too long. Three years."

"Three years is too short!"

"So is life," Toby laughed, "Don't you want a little piece of you and a little piece of me running around this house?"

"Talk to me when I'm fully awake and you won't take advantage of my lack of consciousness. My ability to reason decreases sufficiently when I'm being robbed of the recharging my eyeballs require to function properly," Spencer responded, "Don't you dare look at me like that either. You and your baby blue beggers. Unfair advantage and I'm calling a foul!"

Mimicking her, Toby stripped her of her shoes and tucked her into their king sized heaven of fluff, "I'm not going to forfeit. We'll get you through school and then I'm going to use the hell out of my eyes to make you give in and sell your body to me."

"Like it's not already yours for the taking? Creep," Spencer beamed up at him, "I love you, so much. Even if you are pushing the borderline of crazy by trying to make me into an incubator."

"I love you, too. I'm glad your father is okay. Sweet dreams, future mother of our ducklings."

"One more word and you're sleeping on the couch! Trust me, Toby. You don't want my babies. They'd be ugly ducklings."

Pulling her body into his, Toby crawled on top of his wife, pinning her, "Hey...look at me! You are beautiful. There isn't anything ugly about you. Please do not talk about my gorgeous wife like that."

"Toby, get off! You are constricting my air supply and deflating my breasts!"

"I'll get off, but first you have to tell me that you're beautiful. Say it!"

"Toby..."

"Spencer."

Sighing in defeat, Spencer glared up at him. She could see her reflection in his eyes, along with his love for her, and in that moment, she honestly believed it. Even if she forgot, he was always there to remind her, to be her mirror. Even if she didn't think much of herself, he thought the world of her.

"I'm beautiful," she whispered.

"Don't be insecure girl! Own that beauty!"

"Has Hanna been making you watch Bon Qui Qui with her?"

Toby shrugged, smirking. "Are you going to say it with oomph this time or do I need to tickle it out of you?"

Pushing her mouth against his, Spencer smiled against his lips, "I'm beautiful!"

"Yes," Toby cooed, rolling off of her, "You are. For the record? Our children wouldn't be ugly ducklings, simply because they'd inherit their mother's beauty. They'd be swans."

**_You guys still reading? You didn't fall asleep, did you? It's been awfully quiet the last two chapters...I don't know if it's because it took me a while to update, people are starting to lose faith in Spencer and Toby due to the recent reveAlation, or what...let me know you're still interested._**

**_I know the start up of this story is slow so far, but as it progresses, I think you'll be pretty pleased. All those little nudges towards a baby aren't just for giggles ;) _**


	7. Congratulations Are in Order

**_Holy macaroni! I am overwhelmed in the best way possible by the out-pour of reviews you've all sent my way! Over twenty responses on just the last chapter! I cannot thank you enough, you all make me so happy. :) This story will of course be continuing as I have big plans. That said, here you go!_**

**_ Chapter 7: Congratulations Are In Order_**

Smoothing down royal blue, AGB sleeveless, belted dress, Spencer ran over a mental checklist. Leaning over to light another tea light candle to complete the heart shape she'd been perfecting for the last ten minutes, she let out a shaky breath. Having misplaced a few of the red pose petals she'd scattered about the table as she leaned forward, she spread them back out into alignment. Squatting down so that the table she'd moved from their kitchen into their living room to stand in front of the glowing fireplace, she assessed the position of every china. Sliding Toby's wine glass over to the left a bit, she stood back up, satisfied with the romantic layout.

The timer in the kitchen buzzed, indicating that the homemade rolls she'd prepared were now fully developed and ready for eating. Placing them carefully into the bread basket, she brought the rolls over to the table and set them in the center. A glance at the clock and she determined that Toby would be joining her any minute, so she began serving the accompanied side salad and setting out the spicy filet mignon with grilled sweet onions Toby always ordered at their favorite restaurant - one that they only went to on special occasions due to the expense. Filling she and Toby's glasses with the Carabenet Sauvignon wine she'd picked up from the store after class, Spencer did a one over of the dinner Emily had so stealthily helped her prepare. Spencer was never one to cook; her family was always on the go, and so was she. She was an absolute disaster in the kitchen, so usually Toby was the one to prepare their meals if it was anything other than basics. Emily had been a godsend, whipping out recipes, going shopping for supplies with Spencer, mixing and cutting. Spencer had truthfully been weary of the outcome, but the smells wafting through the living room reassured her that she had nothing to fear. In fact, if Toby didn't arrive soon, she was certain she'd break down and just start inhaling everything in site. She was starving! The carrot sticks and skittles she'd had in between classes had satisfied her for two whole minutes, and she'd been so busy preparing for she and Toby's romantic surprise dinner that she'd forgotten to answer the calls her stomach was sending her.

A furious rumbling from the tummy monster resulted in Spencer's hands flying down to her abdomen.

"Keep it down there, will ya? Nothing says romance like a concert put on courtesy of the contractions of my stomach muscles! Yes, that just oozes romance!"

So preoccupied with lecturing her flat stomach, Spencer didn't notice Toby in the doorway with a wide smile on his handsome face, floor plans tucked under an arm, while the other supported him in the archway.

"Now I've seen it all; first it was the scolding of inanimate objects, like the coffee maker and your laptop, and now you're getting after your organs?"

Spencer's hair whisked about as she turned to greet him, momentarily forgetting that she was wearing heels, and running into his arms was probably not the best decision, because she lost her balance and Toby had to catch her mid leap. Laughing into his shoulder, she gripped his shirt, letting the sweet scent of his aftershave soak into her skin.

"Hi there handsome. I missed you today. Welcome home!"

"I missed you too, beautiful. How are you feeling? You look to be in lighter spirits," Toby whispered, rubbing up and down Spencer's back soothingly.

He discontinued his actions, smiling adoringly at his wife's pout. Planting a kiss on her cheek, he stepped back, holding her out at arm's length for an appreciative body scan with those baby blues.

"You look...ravishing!" he nodded at the romantic illumination behind them, "What's all this? Please don't tell me I missed an important date!"

Spencer cackled, tucking her arm through his as they stepped into the living room to enjoy the feast she- erm, Emily- had created.

Allowing Toby to pull out her chair, Spencer tucked her napkin over her lap, reaching for Toby's hand across the two-person table, "You didn't miss anything...except your award event. I wanted to make it up to you. I know it's not a tacky buffet that leaves you nauseated when you leave, and I know it's not extravagant, five-star dining, but I hope you know that you'd be worth every penny if it was. You deserve a nice, quiet dinner with a roaring fire and candles and decent food. And you definitely deserve..."

Making sure to discreetly pull out the framed certificate from under the table, Spencer handed it to Toby with a proud glisten in her topaz eyes, "This. Congratulations, baby. I'm so proud of you!"

The color in Toby's cheeks altered instantly as Spencer handed over his framed recognition. He admired it for awhile, brushing over the cover with his thumbs, before standing up. Leaning over the table, he met Spencer half way for a tender kiss. He palmed her face in his strong hands, giving her angel kisses over her eyelids before lowering himself back into his assigned seat. He loved being across from her to venture deeply into her eyes, but somehow no matter where they were, he was never close enough to her. Still, he didn't release her hand as they began to nibble on their salads.

"This is very, very delicious, Spence," Toby complimented, taking a refreshing sip of his wine, "Everything is perfect. _You're_ perfect."

A quick squeeze of his hand, Spencer shook her head modestly. "No, trust me. It's just lettuce leaves and raspberry vinaigrette. Nothing too fancy about it."

"But it's your lettuce leaves and vinaigrette made especially by you, which makes it the best salad I've ever had the pleasure of eating. You can't get this anywhere else."

Pulling out a roll from the basket, Spencer broke it into pieces, "That's probably a good thing, Toby."

"No, hey, I mean it. This is amazing! Where did you learn to cook like this? I know my eyes are bigger than my stomach, but I wouldn't object to seconds or thirds, maybe even fourths!"

Biting into his filet mignon, Toby sank back in his seat, growling, "Shit, that's good."

Spencer giggled behind her napkin, "Let's just say I life-lined Rosewood's Martha Stewart. I did however," Spencer said, standing up, "Make our dessert single-handedly...which is why I have poison control on speed dial."

Toby's eyes drank in the Banana-Caramel Shortcake being placed in front of him as Spencer swapped his now empty main course plate for his treat she'd been experimenting with. As soon as the spoon graced his lips, it was love at first taste. The decadent combination of whipped cream, walnuts and caramel hit the spot. He wouldn't be surprised if his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

Watching carefully from her stance beside Toby, Spencer pecked at her nails, "Well...what's the verdict? Do you see the light?"

"Mmmmmmm- mmm! I'll tell you what I see," Toby answered saucily, pulling Spencer down into his lap, "I see a beautiful woman that knows exactly how to get to a man's heart."

"Through his stomach," Spencer teased.

"Here," Toby said, holding out a bite for her, "You have to try this!"

Braving it out, Spencer opened her mouth far enough for Toby to slide the spoon in. Her tongue brushing over her masterpiece, Spencer moaned, closing her eyes, "Damn! That's like a spoonful of sex!"

"Told you."

They continued to share bites, and kisses, until they had cleared their plates and the candles began to die down for the night. The last bite Spencer had taken in led to a quick kiss, which progressed into a far more romantic exchange of affection, their mouths moving slowly against one another, the dress she'd been wearing hiked up as she rotated around in Toby's lap to get closer to him.

The fact that Spencer had gone through all of this trouble, though he knew that someone else had cooked the filet mignon and rolls, warmed Toby's heart. As much as he loved her and wanted to be there for her family, he had been a bit bummed to have missed his ceremony for work, though he'd never admit that to Spencer.

Likewise, Spencer understood that while family always came first, Toby was her little family now, too. She needed to balance being attentive to both parties, and she planned on making up for what they had missed tonight. She was beyond proud of Toby's accomplishments and knew he fully deserved the awareness of talents he brought to the table to provide for them.

Their foreheads remained glued together as Toby spoke sincerely, his eyes magnetized by the spell of her irises.

"Thank you, so much, for all of this. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Spencer rubbed his neck, casting back his smile, "You've always been a star in my eyes; I knew it was only a matter of time before everyone else saw what I see when I wake up next to you every morning. You deserve the world, Toby, and I wish I could give it to you. I'd lasso the moon and stars and tie them on strings for you to carry around like balloons to make you happy. I love you."

"Spencer, you should know by now that the only thing I want to carry around is you. Always. You make me happy every single day! You're the one that deserves heaven."

"I already find that with _you_," Spencer uttered, as her fingers traced patterns on his chest.

And it was true. Belinda Carlisle once preached about finding heaven on earth in someone, and Spencer always voiced her disagreement at the sappy lyrics that Melissa played over and over again in her room next door growing up. But now...now Belinda Carlisle was gaining credit, and fast.

Because Toby was that solitude she'd been seeking her whole life.

Toby was the purity she'd been void of for so long.

Toby was the North Star that guided her to a better place.

When she was lost, he became her found.

He was her warmth even on the coldest winter night, when the temperature dropped to below zero.

He was the courage she'd always needed to find.

So as Spencer and Toby celebrated Toby's newest achievement with the cozy fireplace and the first snow of the year as their soundtrack, they both shared a little piece of heaven they only experienced in each other's embrace.

* * *

_**Thoughts? :) **_

_**Don't get too cozy there...the fire only stays aglow for so long...**_

_**Spencer and Toby are in for a cold front. **_

_**Next up:**_

_**- Spencer, in an attempt to rekindle her relationship with her father, invites her parents over for dinner. But even the most planned out events can be greeted with some unplanned surprises. Will all go well?**_

_**- An appearance from Taylor and Melissa as Spencer and Toby try their hand at babysitting for a night. **_


	8. Toby's Tomfoolery

_**Here you go faithful, wonderful readers and friends! The next chapter of Now We Have Everything! I love you all like a love song, baby. **_

_**I also might be persuaded to updated the next chapter tomorrow ;) **_

_**Chapter 8: Toby's Tomfoolery**_

* * *

From birth to adolescence, parents spend a majority of their time preparing you for the day you become independent of their guidance. The day you stop living under their roof, eating their comfort food, and getting a free pass for laundry and extra cash. Throughout the duration of your upbringing, you're told what to do, when to do it, and _how_ to do it. We hate it when we hear it then, but oh do we thank our ears for listening later on.

_Line up your corners and form a hospital fold. You have to make sure the seams of the pillowcases are even, Spencer._

_Tilt your toothbrush at a forty-five degree angle and brush for 120 seconds, Spencer._

_Start by making a half-hitch-knot before you make your rabbit ears on your shoelaces, Spencer._

_Mind your P's and Q's, Spencer. _

_Save your money and spend it wisely, Spencer._

_Work hard now, play later, Spencer._

_Always check your blind spots, Spencer._

_Don't speak to strangers, Spencer._

_Always be a winner, Spencer. Be first in line, Spencer._

_Act your age, Spencer!_

Your parents prepare you for everything they possibly can; that is of course, except for that moment of terrifying realization that you have just become an adult. And for Spencer? That dawning didn't occur when she turned 18, nor when she turned 21 and had her first_ legal_ drink - there were many drinks consumed prior to that under her parents' radar - or even when she and Toby moved in-together before they got married. For Spencer? That terrifying unraveling of the now expired preservation of youth didn't occur until she was setting the table for her family dinner at this very moment. Suddenly, being ten years old and told to make her bed or brush her teeth at a specific angle didn't sound so bad after-all.

Currently, Spencer had no doubt that her parents' influence had significantly affected the choices she made around the house she and Toby now owned. So here she was, racking her brain for the proper table setting etiquette as the mechanical gears of the grandfather clock in the foyer continued to echo like an hourglass. While Spencer set out the cutlery she felt like Jasmine trapped inside an hour glass in the movie _Aladdin_; the sand rising until she was immobile and short of oxygen.

_Salad plate._

_Salad fork._

_Dinner fork._

_Bread plate._

_Butter knife._

_Dinner plate._

_Knife._

_Water glass._

_Dessert spoon._

_Soup spoon._

_Wine glass._

"The Zuppa Toscana is ready to serve. Did you want me to leave it on the stove top or start ladling some into everyone's bowls? Oh, and the Italian Wheat Rolls are cooling off in the basket. Should I bring that out here too?" Toby fired out, poking his head in from the kitchen.

Not even straying from her obsession of perfecting the china outline, Spencer nodded.

Toby returned instantly, carrying the fresh bread and butter dish. Angling over Spencer, he kept one hand on the side of her arm as he arranged the basket in the center of the table as Spencer had assigned.

"Napkins..." Spencer croaked.

"What?"

"Napkins," she repeated, her voice fueled with distress, "I forgot the proper placement for napkins!"

"Well, they usually go in your lap when you're sitting down..."

Choosing to ignore her husband's mockery, Spencer gazed helplessly around at her table design, pointing to each item she'd placed out.

"Dinner fork, bread plate, butter knife, dinner plate, knife, water glass, dess-"

"Spencer."

"Dessert spoon, soup spoon, wine glass! Where does the napkin go?!"

Gently removing the folded linen napkin from Spencer's unsteady hands, Toby delicately placed it in the proper position, "Dinner plate, baby."

Exhaling, Spencer turned in his arms, as Toby began rubbing his palms up and down the length of them for comfort, "Thank you."

His lips left an impression on her temple before he withdrew, deciding to do what he did best: make her laugh.

"Or," he started playfully, tucking another napkin from her hold into her shirt collar, "Here. Or maybe," he tugged on another, draping it over his head, "Here. What do you think? Is this a good look for me? Does this fabric conflict with my bone structure? It doesn't make me look fat, does it?"

Laughing lightly, Spencer untucked the napkin he'd folded into her shirt, making a move to remove the one atop his head, but Toby was too quick. He took another one she had set on the side of the table, sneaking her reading glasses from the china hutch from when she had been browsing recipes. Placing another cloth napkin over the front of his face to conceal it completely, he positioned her reading bifocals over his ears, speaking muffled at her as he blindly walked around the table with his arms out like a zombie.

"Toby," Spencer advised, "This isn't the time to goof around! My parents and Melissa will be arriving any moment and I still have to dust the mantle in the living room!"

"You already dusted it twice this morning, Spencer. How much more dust could it have collected since? They won't notice and you're going overboard!"

"I'm not going overboard! Have you met my parents? They will run their fingers across every surface in this house. They will sniff every carpet square. They'll-"

Toby cut her off, "Lick every floor board? Yes, I've met your parents. They're swell! Hello, I'm Veronica Hastings! I don't bring happiness wherever I go like some people, I bring happiness _whenever_ I go! Oh, am I catching you at an inconvenient time? That's what I aim for!"

"Toby, cut it out -"

"Oh you liked that impression? Let me try another one," Toby deepened his voice, "I'm Papa Hastings! I obtained my PH.D. in Pretentiousness from the High and Mighty University in Narrowed-Mindedville because I'm unreceptive to new ideas! I'm so tough... that is until you put something sweet in front of me, and then I'm just a puppy...whoa!"

Plowing into a fairly solid object, Toby meekly lowered down his impromptu face mask, wincing, "Mr. Hastings! Uh, welcome."

"Dad!" Spencer shrieked, ripping off the napkin resting on Toby's scalp, "We didn't hear the doorbell! Did you hear the doorbell honey? Because I didn't!"

Toby shook his head, nervous to meet Peter's eyes, "I've been meaning to get that fixed."

Peter kept his eyes locked dangerously on Toby, "Woof, woof."

In a pathetic attempt to make peace, Spencer pointed to their feast on the dining room table, "Fresh soup, anyone?"

* * *

Everyone at the table gargled down their soup silently or nibbled on their salads and bread.

Despite the awkward silence, all thanks to Toby's tomfoolery (which was still earning him many death glares from Mr. Hastings), Spencer was pleased that her parents and Melissa were digging into the meal she and Toby had assembled. What's more was that the salad she'd prepared without Toby, was going over pretty well with her father, whom seemed to be taking his suggested diet quite seriously now that he was released from the hospital's 24 hour surveillance.

Of course, Spencer didn't get to bask silently in glory for too long. Veronica Hastings leaned right over and removed that smile so fast that it had hardly had its' chance for spotlight.

"Honey," she whispered, poking at her salad with her salad fork, "This orange romaine salad could use a smidgen less red vinegar and another tablespoon of honey."

"Well, the recipe only called for _one_ tablespoon of honey, Mom," Spencer said through gritted teeth, toying with her wine glass, an elbow propped up on the table absentmindedly.

Veronica reached for Spencer's right arm, dragging it down the table cloth, until it was resting in Spencer's lap, "A good cook always knows to add and subtract ingredients as necessary. I suppose these inadequacies in the kitchen have the tendency to occur when one gets married at such a ripe age. You'll learn with experience."

Following this sly word vomit of boycott, Toby's fork clanked against his plate from his position at the end of the table, exercising the muscles in his jaw that his chewing wasn't quite getting to. He reached out his hand and brushed it against Spencer's thigh under the table, applying some pressure. The eye battle between he and Peter from across the two ends of the table had taken pause now, as Toby's eyes transferred to his mother-in-law.

The cloth napkin stained with her Capricious M.A.C. lipstick was now becoming victim to asphyxiation as Spencer began wringing it repeatedly in her white-knuckled fists. She was seriously contemplating taking the center candle and throwing it at her mother, but thankfully Melissa became the referee, scooping herself another serving of the salad, providing Taylor with a generous helping as well.

Sending Spencer a quick nod, Melissa averted her eyes to her freckled three-year-old sitting between she and Toby.

"Tay, sweet-pea, you haven't touched your soup. You feeling okay?"

Her voice was low in volume, those sweet velvety eyes inherited from her mother's side timid as they peeked up through the various dishes scattered out before her. "I don' like soap. I fought me was a'posed to clean wiff it, not eat it!"

A ringing of laughter outnumbered the chimes on the Grandfather clock.

Toby reached out to rub Taylor's back, smiling down at his niece. "It's soup, Tay, you can eat it."

Taylor looked up at him, "Are der veggie-tables in here? Veggie-tables are icky!"

Melissa cleared her throat, "You don't care for vegetables," she corrected, "But they are very good for you and necessary for development. See? Mommy eats her vegetables. I bet Aunt Spencer and Uncle Toby eat theirs too!"

"Oh, absolutely! You know what?" Toby cupped his hand around Taylor's ear, lowering his voice, "This soup has magical vegetables that make you grow really, really tall."

He sat back up straight in his own chair, dipping his spoon into his almost gone portion, "But if you just want to shrink, then I guess I'll just have to eat your soup for you. You don't mind, do you?"

Taylor's hands were protectively shielding her soup instantly, trying to shovel up a bite. Every time she raised her spoon to her mouth, the soup dove back into her bowl, or onto her lap. Slamming the spoon down, she sat up on her knees, eyeing Toby. Veronica and Peter nearly fell over as the little girl used both plump hands to raise the bowl to her lips, slurping loudly.

"Taylor Hastings!" Melissa started.

"You know what?" Toby held up his bowl, imitating his niece, "I think that's an excellent idea, bug."

Veronica looked to Spencer, outraged by Toby's behavior. "Spencer, surely you do not condone such ludicrous behavior at the table!"

Peter agreed. "We don't eat like animals at the Hastings house."

Toby and Taylor kept slurping away, Taylor's giggles echoing through the ceramic bowl as she downed the contents she otherwise would not have touched.

"Oh," Spencer nodded, spanking the edge of the table, "I concur: it is ludicrous!"

Holding up her bowl, Spencer gave her mother and father a defying glare, "But this is the Cavanaugh house, and we eat with our elbows on the table, complete with lots of laughter."

As if toasting to her husband and niece, Spencer raised her bowl to eye-level, tossing back her head to guzzle down the remains of her soup.

Peter was about to join in this, the bowl to his lips, when Veronica's fist came in contact with the table, "Peter!"

"Well," Melissa decided, "Looks like I'll never have to fight with Tay to eat her vegetables again, will I?"

Taylor finished, the last sip of warm liquid running down her chin as she slammed the bowl back onto the table and raise a hand into the air, "Victowy is mine!"

"Good! Now maybe we can go back to behaving like civilized members of society," Peter grumbled, "Spence, do you have any dessert prepared for you old man? I haven't had anything sweet since I was discharged and your mother has taken the liberty of hiding everything appealing from me."

Veronica chortled, "You'll be thanking me when you make it to see your Granddaughter graduate Kindergarten."

"What's Kindergarten? Is that a garden?" Taylor giggled, "With fairies and gnomes and pwincesses?"

"Something like that," Spencer laughed, standing up to grab dessert from the island in the kitchen, "Who wants ice-cream? Not Taylor, I'm sure."

"Me want, me want!"

Melissa leaned over, assessing how well Taylor had eaten. She gave Spencer her nod of approval, "She ate pretty well, I'd say that's fine. Can't say the same for our mother."

Taylor giggled again, "No ice-cream for Meme! Papa, you gonna haf some?"

Peter held up his fingers, "Three scoops, sport."

Veronica's eyes said otherwise, "Your father will have one scoop of ice-cream and I'll pass."

Spencer mentally took a tally for dessert, vanishing into the kitchen, bickering about her mother under her breath; though Toby was so in-tuned he could hear everything she was complaining about.

Peter dabbed at his chin with his napkin, swishing around his water as if he was attempting to recreate a small tornado, "See, Toby. Better watch out and learn to conform; your wife starts putting you in your place and answering for you."

Sliding his chair out, Toby excused himself, "Well, then I guess it's a good thing I already know my place, isn't it sir? And that would be by my wife's side. I'm going to see if Spencer needs help carrying the bowls. Excuse me."

Arriving in the kitchen, safe from the judgmental eyes and ears of Spencer's parental units, Toby could hear muffled sniffles as Spencer spooned scoops of ice-cream into five bowls.

Blanketing Spencer's body with his arms, he placed a supportive kiss on her cheek, keeping his chin tucked against the material of her sweater, "I love you."

Spencer's sniffles multiplied with his gentle profession and Toby turned her around, cupping her face gingerly in his large hands.

"Hey, hey, what's going through that pretty head of yours?"

Her eyes sloped upward at him through thick lashes fresh with dews of emotion. "It's just one thing after another with them. If it's not a comment on their disapproval of us getting married so young by the constant snarky comments made since the day we exchanged rings, it's a whiplash of how terrible I am at being a housewife. I'm so sick of it!"

The tears that were ready to race down Spencer's soft face didn't stand a chance, as Toby's caresses worked like windshield wipers, terminating their existence before they could smear the makeup Spencer had spent over an hour perfecting just for this occasion. He'd watched her scrub down every floor in their house, vacuum every little patch of retro carpet, polish every surface in sight in preparation for her family joining them for dinner at their humble adobe. He'd held her hand and sat with her through every panic attack she'd been struck with as she tried to come up with a meal plan. All Spencer wanted, all she ever wanted, was her parent's approval; to hear she'd done right with her life. The fact that they seemed to fail to recognize how she exceeded at everything - with the exception of cooking- was tragic. It broke Spencer, and in turn, it broke Toby to see it break Spencer.

Spencer couldn't be more perfect in his eyes, and he couldn't believe his in-laws didn't see the star they had raised.

"Well, you're not a housewife, Spence. You're a full time student and a full time wife. Not to mention? A full time maid and laundromat. You're a full time friend. Give yourself the credit your folks seem to struggle to give to you. Spencer, you are a dedicated, brilliant scholar that has come way too far in life to let the comments spurred by your defiance to bow down to what other people wanted for you, to let it stop you and tear you down now. You are a spit-fire. You've always been a spit-fire. And it drives me up the wall, but that's what I love about you.

"Besides; when have us rebels ever cared about what our parents want for us? You are their daughter. It's their job to worry, it's their job to nag. It's not their job to take over your life. I know they love you. You're kind of impossible not to love, you know that, right? You are. So baby, please, don't let this get to you. Hey, if I can recall, there was an incidence in which I joined your family for dinner once and your mother overcooked the roast. Do you remember that? But we were polite and ate it anyways, even though it basically was like snacking on rubber. Not only does that show that your mother is human too, but it also shows how wonderful you are. Your parents have no filter. Compassion isn't their strong point. They just say things, I think without even realizing the severity of their blows, sometimes. Your parents make think you're too young to be married, but so what? The way I see it? You're an old soul. What better reason to prove to them that we are ready for this? We've made it past five months, what's another eternity to go?"

The corners of Spencer's lips yanked upwards despite her best stubborn efforts to remain in a pout.

Toby caressed her lips with his thumbs, "We can do this. _You _can do this. Okay? I love you, very much."

"I love you, too, maniac."

* * *

Following dessert, which went over less bitterly, Spencer and Toby set out to give the Hastings' a tour of their house. Peter and Veronica hadn't even come by since the day they purchased the house for the couple and Melissa and Taylor had not seen some of the new renovations since their last visit from the condo they shared with Wren up in Philadelphia.

The group started with Toby's plans for the backyard once the weather was nicer and allowances weren't as tight, and winded through the house until they were upstairs.

Melissa was commenting on her love of the earthy tones in the hallway when Peter took it upon himself to wander around the upper level for his own guided tour. Stumbling into the last door at the end of the hall, the one across from Toby and Spencer's sanctuary they called their bedroom, the intruder flicked on the light.

He rummaged through Toby's personal items, snorting at the vintage arcade game stashed away in the corner Toby had gotten as a freebie during one of his jobs in town, sneering at all the car posters hung on the wall of Toby's man cave he'd personalized.

"And here we have our bedroom..." Spencer announced, "Dad, as you'll notice we just put in a new light fix - wait. Dad? Where's Dad?"

Toby and Spencer's eyes landed on the ajar door across from them, both pushing past Veronica, Taylor and Melissa before it was too late.

But, it was too late.

Toby could hear a chorusing of "Dun, dun, dun" in his head as Peter turned and pointed to the tarp taking up an entire wall.

"What's this?"

His voice resembling that of a boy going through puberty, Toby tried to save his ass, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Oh, t-t-that? That thing? Up there? On that wall?"

Peter nodded cluelessly.

"Um, see sir, that is a very funny story actually because it's...Spencer. Spencer, honey, why don't you fill your Dad in?"

Not happy with the shifting of guilty gears, Spencer was palming her forehead when Taylor once again saved the day.

Leaping into the room, her long, wavy locks of raven swishing behind her, the little girl took immediate fascination to Toby's guitar leaning against the love seat, "A guitar!"

The diversion she had unintentionally created was a huge success, and soon everyone had forgotten about the tarp Toby had hung up with outlines of Spencer's rear and his hand-prints in various colors.

Still, Spencer brushed her lips against Toby's, giving him a strict warning. She'd been tolerant of his wish before, but now was putting her foot down.

"That thing better be either in the trash or in the garage as soon as I've rounded up the herds."

Toby gulped, "Yes, baby."

* * *

**_Still to come:_**

**_- Toby and Spencer take in Taylor for the night. What kind of shenanigans do you think they'll get themselves into this time? _**

**_- One of the liars pees on a stick...but will the results be what they're expecting? _**


	9. The Babysitter's Club

_Not quite as many reviews as I was hoping for...but hopefully this chapter goes over better. I know nothing uber dramatic has taken place in this story YET...but I can assure you, it's gonna happen and if all goes as planned, you won't just be on the edge of your seat; you'll be on the floor. ;) I love you all like Peter Pan loves Neverland. _

_p.s. I really do appreciate reviews, but getting more specific feedback rather than just "Update" RIGHT after I've updated would be great. _

**Chapter 9: The Babysitter's Club **

* * *

There's something about being in the presence of children that brings out the inner child in you. That was especially the case with Toby Cavanaugh, and though she would never verbally admit to it, Spencer.

Spencer had weathered quite the week; with midterms and starting to work small shifts at the coffee shop on Hollis' campus. She and Toby were in need of some extra pocket money, and though she was struggling with being a full time student, that occupation wasn't giving them money; it was taking money away. It wasn't exactly her ideal job, because basically it was like hiring an alcoholic to work a bar, but it was something. The stresses of completing finals, writing horrendous ten page papers, learning the ropes of the fancy coffee machines at work, and paying off the bills they'd been neglecting at home, Spencer was spent.

So, when Melissa sweetly asked that Spencer and Toby babysit Taylor for the night because her regular babysitter cancelled on them, Spencer was prepared to decline. But then she saw Toby's face light up at the notion, so who was Spencer to say no? Babysitting would be exhausting, but at least it'd be entertaining...and Taylor never failed to entertain. There literally was never a dull moment when she was in their care. They'd babysat Taylor numerous times over the years as a team, but for a few hours at most. Tonight was the first time she was staying overnight.

"Uncle Toby, I fink you should go kiss your toof brush because I am not pweased with your breath!"

As previously stated: _never _a dull moment.

Spencer snickered, pulling back a drawer to place the spatula she'd been drying into its proper residence "Taylor, your honesty is so refreshing after I have to tolerate five hours of complete exaggeration and tall tales by my professors!"

If there was one thing Spencer could count on, it was children's ability to be (brutally) honest.

Toby cupped a hand over his mouth, breathing out a puff of air to check for the remains of their spaghetti and garlic bread dinner. He coughed in disgust at the confirmation through his nostrils, reaching for a handful of Nestle chocolate chips Spencer had placed on the island in front of them.

"Toby!" Spencer tssked, "Those chocolate chips are reserved for our cookies!"

"I didn't know we were baking cookies!" Toby cheered, "What are we waiting for?"

Spencer finished tucking away the dishes they'd used for dinner, reaching out to scoot the bag of chocolate chips away from her husband, "We're waiting because we just finished dinner not even five minutes ago, so you need time for your stomachs to properly digest."

She turned to Taylor, "How's your card for Mommy going, Tay?"

Taylor's assortment of crayons, stickers, and glitter sticks fenced her arms in as she continued to add her own artistic spin to the folded over craft paper Spencer had supplied her with, the word "Mom" on the front in shaky penmanship typical of a young child just learning their letters.

Brushing back a wisp of hair with her palm, Taylor placed her head down on the counter, becoming eye level with the crayon she'd been reluctant to release from her grasp since Toby told her it wasn't just orange, it was actually dubbed _Macaroni and Cheese_. Her elation was adorable - having informed both Toby and Spencer that she was going to tell her mother all about how she colored with a real life noodle; not understanding that it was just the name of the particular shade.

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, Taylor stuck out her bottom lip; something she'd clearly gotten from Spencer on the cuteness scale.

"My hand is gonna be cwippled in just a minute. I fink we need cookies."

Spencer began dragging out the necessary ingredients for the chocolate chip and plain cookies they were going to make together. She'd gone to the store and found some Disney themed cookie cutters on sale for half off the original price, anticipating that Taylor would be more entertained by creating her own cookies, than Spencer buying them from the store instead.

Toby stood up from his stool, lifting Taylor up onto the island - though Spencer did not condone this for safety and sanitary reasons - so that she had better access to the supplies.

He settled protectively behind his niece as Spencer began explaining the process to Taylor, clarifying that there were two cookie sheets; one for plain cookies with the fun stencils that Toby and Taylor could work on together, and the other for the chocolate chip cookies she would work on.

Spencer began rolling balls of the chocolate chip cookie dough she'd whipped up, placing them on the greased cookie sheet. She'd turned her back for one minute to preheat the oven in preparation, when Toby reached out and snatched a ball of the cookie dough, ripping it in half and handing Taylor the other piece.

"It's not cooked yet!" Taylor exclaimed, holding it up to dissect with her eyes.

Toby covered his lips with a finger, "Shh! You're going to get Uncle Toby into trouble with your mean, old Aunt Spencer!"

"Toby!" Spencer growled, "She can't eat that and neither can you! Fifty-thousand people get Salmonella every year, and I refuse to let that number go up two notches because you're being incautious! We are not menstruating teenage girls at a sleepover party. Haven't you heard the expression ready to bake, not eat?"

Averting his eyes upward in a display of annoyance towards Spencer's motherly insisting, Toby groaned loudly, "Spencer, let the kid at least have a bite! Come on, live a little!"

"Yeah, Aunt Spence! Hakuna Mufasa!"

Not understanding why her Aunt and Uncle were now laughing instead of bickering, Taylor looked up from her task, "What's so comical?"

Wrapping his arms around the young girl, Toby kissed the side of her pigtail, "It's _Mutata_, sweetheart."

Deciding that one bite wouldn't kill them - or at least, she hoped - Spencer took a small portion for herself, "Alright, I suppose we could spare one bite, but no more after that. We don't want our tummies to get upset before we even get to eat the cookies, do we?"

Once the cookies were safely stowed away in the oven to rise, the trio moved on to the next craft Spencer had planned out: painting small garden pots.

Spencer was always a fan of having fresh flowers in her kitchen, or any room in the house, really, so much that she'd run fresh out of vases. The fact that Melissa's birthday was a perfect excuse to salvage ceramic pots from a thrift store and decorate them thrilled her. Taylor was decorating hers as a gift to Melissa, since Wren had failed to take the little girl shopping for an actual present in his typical carelessness, and they were going to plant something in it in the morning before Melissa and Wren came to pick her up.

Delicately stroking her paintbrush to-and-fro on her own pot, Taylor glanced up at Spencer, "How come I hafta stay here on this night?"

"Well, Tay, your parents are going out to celebrate because tomorrow is your mother's birthday."

"Why didn't they just fhrow a party?"

"Oh, Four Seasons hotel reservation? Something tells me they are," Toby said under his breath.

The roller Spencer had near her elbow came to greet Toby's shoulder as she spoke to her niece softly, "Sometimes adults do things differently. Hey, Tay, speaking of birthdays, can you tell me when you born?"

Scoffing like it was the most obvious answer in the world and how dare Spencer not know, Taylor flipped a pigtail over her shoulder, plopping a Tinkerbell sticker smack dab in the middle of her pot.

"On my birfhday!"

Kissing the top of Taylor's head, Spencer giggled, "That's right, sweetie. That's absolutely right!"

Spencer set the timer on the microwave to alert them when their masterpieces were ready for a glamour session complete with edible glitter, sprinkles, and frosting. Turning her attention to her husband and niece, who was at the moment decorating Toby's face instead of the pot, she cleared her throat.

"So, we have twenty minutes...Taylor, what would you like to do to pass the time?"

"Can we play Hide-N-Go-Seek, please? Fhat's my request!"

"I would love to play that! But Uncle Toby here isn't very good at it..."

Toby objected. "Excuse me! I am the master of disguise! At least I make an attempt to blend in with my surroundings under the curtains. Your Aunt Spencer here has yet to master the art of camouflage."

Taylor giggled into her sleeve, "We gotta do one, two, free, not it! Not it!"

"Not it!" Toby spat.

Puffing out air in defeat, Spencer moped over to the corner of the kitchen, walking into the pantry, "One...two...three...four...five...six...seven -"

Toby and Taylor exchanged frantic glances, and Toby assisted Taylor on getting down from the counter, both of them making a dash for the stairs in the foyer.

Spencer could hear their footsteps on the characteristically creaky steps, grinning to herself. Reaching thirty, she exited the pantry, setting out on her search and rescue. Just to humor her prey, she pretended to roam the lower level first, opening cupboards as she sipped mildly on wine, every so often shouting a "No, not in here!"

The wine she'd sipped on provided her with enough encouragement to wander upstairs, and she began looking around the dark hallway expectantly. Wandering into her office, she had no luck, but as soon as she rounded Toby's man cave, she could hear a rustling of plastic, followed by some obnoxious chomps. Alas, she turned on the light, finding Toby hunched over in the corner with a bag of chips.

"So this is where you relocated your secret snack stash, huh? Thanks for showing me. Now I know where to bring the garbage bin next time I raid your forbidden collection of cavities in a box. Where's bug?"

Toby stood up, dusting off his crumbs on his jean pants, something that drove Spencer up the wall.

"Like I'd tell you if I knew. I would never turn in my partner in camouflage crime!"

"Toby, you were squatting against the wall wearing a yellow shirt, while devouring the world's loudest snack. I don't think you have the right to use the word camouflage again in my presence. And you know, if you're going to stow away treats in here, could you at least install a napkin disposer? You try getting out grease stains when doing laundry! Not an easy task."

"Just take advice from Mr. Miyagi: wax on, wax off. How hard could it be?" Toby laughed, though his laugh was short lived as he pointed across the hallway, "Did you hear that?"

"It sounds like it's coming from our bedroom," Spencer breathed, backing into Toby.

Creeping forward as quietly as possible given the dated condition of their floorboards, the pair slowly made their way out of the man cave, journeying into the dark hallway, towards the source of the foreign sound.

"What is it?" Spencer whispered, locking her arm around Toby's waist to ensure her balance.

Toby was equally at a loss. "It sounds like a muffled baby chainsaw."

Turning to shoot lasers through Toby's skull, though she could barely make out the outline of his face despite the close proximity, Spencer scolded him in a hushed tone, "That's not even funny!"

As if the universe was playing a prank on them, or deciding to bless them with an eery soundtrack to their lives, the haunting melody from _Halloween_ the movie floated around their ears.

Spencer had her face planted into Toby's chest, whimpering lightly. At least, until she realized it was coming from his cell phone. Whacking him repeatedly, she echoed his curses, "Will you turn that thing off?"

Toby reached down to look at his phone, turning it off as requested. He giggled a bit. "Sorry, that'd be my ringtone for my boss. Won't happen again."

Resuming their tip-toe hunt for Taylor, they both prepared to open up the door to their bedroom.

Kicking the door open, Toby flicked on the light, "Found you...or...not!"

Spencer looked around, making Toby check the closet and under the bed. However, there was no Taylor in sight.

A light racket coming from the master bathroom drew them in to the girl's location shortly after, but what they discovered was far more horrifying than Freddy or Jason with a chainsaw holding up a body part.

There the preschooler was, taking solace in the bathtub, her eyes welted to the vibrating object in her hands.

Turning to acknowledge her very stunned babysitters, Taylor smiled.

"Hey, you found me! Aw, Uncle Toby, she finded you?"

A whimper pushed past Spencer's vocal chords as she took a step forward, speaking as if she was a negotiator trying to get a culprit to lower their weapon.

"Taylor, honey, where did you find that?"

Toby was right behind her, "I didn't even know you had that!"

Her index finger revealing the location of the personal item she was now innocently gawking at, Taylor shrugged, "In fhat cupboard, behind all fhat ofher gunk. Look, it's a massager!"

Placing the object on her scalp, Taylor proceeded to giggle in amusement at her...treasure.

"My Mommy has one, too. But she keeps hers under her bed. Uncle Toby, wanna try?"

Spencer's hands had never interfered faster, not even when she played Volleyball back in high-school. Snatching the embarrassing item away from Taylor, she was about to cover her tracks so that Taylor wouldn't spill the beans of her discovery to her parents, or worse, Veronica and Peter, when the timer downstairs buzzed.

Exhaling in relief, Spencer turned off the device and tucked it into her back pocket, "Saved by the buzzer! Who wants cookies?"

Taylor was making a run for the stairs before Spencer had even completed her inquiry.

That's when the private interrogation Spencer was dreading began.

Toby kept his arms crossed, blocking the door, "Am I not getting the job done, Spence?"

"Wha- ? No, no! You're getting..." her cheeks flushed, "That's...fine."

"Then the purpose of this is? Not that I'm entirely against it; I think it's kind of hot and if our niece wasn't with us tonight I'd insist on-"

Spencer's hand covered Toby's face, "Can we not? It was a gag gift from Aria. I got it at the bachelorette party before we got married. It's been tucked away since. I am not in need of its service, nor will I ever be. Can we drop it now? I don't want Taylor to try taking the cookies out herself."

Toby threw his hands up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I'll drop it...for now. But not before I promise you there is nothing to be ashamed of-"

The look on Spencer's face warned him to bring his words to a halt.

"Cookies, right!"

As soon as Toby was turned around, Spencer shoved the "massager" into a drawer in the vanity, yelping as it started rumbling, "I am going to maim Aria!"

* * *

Things had thankfully died down, though Taylor did experience a bit of a sugar high after scarfing down two cookies and licking frosting from the jar under Toby's childish role-modeling. Spencer was relieved that it was almost bedtime. Now she understood why Melissa didn't let Taylor have cookies.

Since Taylor was sticky from the frosting, she was in desperate need of a bath, so Toby drew the water for her, before the raven-haired giggle-bunny settled in, making good use of the bubble bath Toby had dumped in.

Spencer had just set out Taylor's pajamas and placed fresh sheets on the bed in the guest room, reminding both Toby and Taylor that it was time to finish up to get ready for bed.

"Aw man! Can't I jus' have five mowe minutes, Aunt Spence?"

"Yeah, Aunt Spence, just five more minutes," Toby echoed.

Annoyed that Toby had become a parrot since Taylor's arrival, and not impressed with his encouragement to rebel against the rules laid out for Taylor by a very anal Melissa, Spencer reached for the hose that Toby had been using to rinse off soap suds from Taylor's arms.

"Here, just let me do it. You're taking too long and it's already eight minutes past her bedtime, Toby!"

Toby tightened his grip around the hose, "I've got it, Spence. Relax!"

So caught up in their tug-o-war, Toby ended up spraying Spencer in the chest, drenching her shirt.

He looked like a shameful puppy that had just chewed up his master's tennis shoes, though Taylor found this to be hilarious. She clapped her hands together, kicking her feet around in the water.

"Do it again! Do again!"

"Oh, you think I should get her again, do you?" Toby laughed, "I think so, too. Sorry, Spence."

Spencer held up her hands defensively, "Don't you dare!"

Toby wasn't afraid anymore, cheered on by his shampoo mohawk accomplice. He took aim again, causing Spencer to back up in caution. This time he got her square in the face, and Spencer was outraged. He lunged forward, grabbing Spencer, pressing the hose against her skin as he and Taylor laughed hysterically, the screams and laughter echoing through the bathroom.

Deciding she had endured enough torture, Spencer turned the hose on Toby, which went over extremely well with Taylor, who had now switched teams.

* * *

Finally, it was time for bed. Spencer had been ready to retire for the night hours ago, truthfully, but she and Toby had just read Taylor the five books she'd packed for her overstay, and she was ready to collapse.

"Do I hafta go to sleep? I wanna play!" the preschooler pouted.

Spencer shook her head, tightening her fuzzy robe she'd changed into after their water fight in the bathroom, "No, Taylor. It's time for bed."

"But I need a drink of water!"

"You had your drink of water! If I give you anymore, you'll only wet the bed. It's time for bed."

Taylor was still fighting her, "I have to say my pwayers!"

"Fine," Spencer decided, "Say your prayers and then it is most definitely, no if's, and's, or but's, time for bed!"

Crossing her fingers together, Taylor looked upward at the ceiling, "Pwease, God, make Aunt Spence let me stay up all of the night! Amen. Can we read another book, puh-lease?"

Toby was chuckling from his spot on Taylor's cot, shrugging his shoulders at Spencer.

"Babe, what's one more book? Aren't you the one that always says we should encourage children to read? Isn't that what you learn about in your classes? We should cultivate her hone her passion for literature. Just one more?"

Spencer was unfortunately outnumbered. Moving her pointer finger in a come hither motion, Spencer summoned her other half, gripping his shirt collar so that his eyes were leveled with hers.

"Toby, this is classic child behavior. Every time we extend her fun time, we lose our authority. She is manipulating us into getting what she wants, and you know it!"

Trying not to pout at the batting of the eyes Taylor was directing his way, Toby sighed, "So what do you propose we do?"

"We tell her that if she goes to bed now, a fairy will come and bring her something special under her pillow."

"I thought that occasion was reserved for the loss of a tooth, not a bedtime battle."

Spencer narrowed her eyes into venomous slits.

Backing down like a compliant husband he'd become, Toby gulped. "Okay, but by doing that, wouldn't we just be manipulating her manipulation?"

"This is why I'm the smart one," Spencer pointed out, "Taylor, you've brushed your teeth. You've said your prayers. You've had your cup of water. You've gone over the maximum occupancy for stuffed animals to cuddle with, and we've read all five of your books to you twice. You have two choices: You could either disobey your Uncle and I and miss out on french toast in the morning, or you could close those pretty little eyes of yours, go to sleep, and have the best breakfast in town as soon as you wake up. What will it be?"

Opting for the second choice, Taylor reclined back on the futon, nuzzling closer to her stuffed unicorn, "Okay. Goodnight."

Pleased with her handle on the situation, Spencer beamed, pressing a quick kiss to her niece's forehead, "Goodnight."

Toby pulled the covers over Taylor's small figure, also treating her with a temple peck, before plugging in the night light and turning off the light. He shut the door and followed Spencer into their bedroom, letting out a long sigh.

Stretching his arms over his head as Spencer began the lengthy process of removing the decorative pillows from their resting place, he yawned.

"I'm sorry for attacking you with water earlier. I'm also sorry for having a piece of raw cookie dough...and then sneaking another spoonful when you weren't looking after you told me not to in the first place."

Spencer tugged back the covers, switching off the light her bedside lamp was providing as she crawled into the parachute of sheets.

"You're awful, really. Don't expect me to play nurse when you're tossing your cookies - no pun intended - in the middle of the night."

Resting her head against a pillow, she too yawned, "I'm so glad Taylor finally went down. I thought we were going to have to battle it out until the rooster crowed."

Sprinkling Spencer's face with affectionate kisses, Toby pulled her into his arms, running his fingers through her still damp hair, "You handled that bedtime dilemma very nicely, I thought. Like a pro! Maybe I... no, that's silly...nevermind. Goodnight, Spencer."

"No, no, tell me...what is it?"

His tone was bashful as he spoke again, "Do you think I'll make a good father, someday? This whole test run with bug has me thinking it might not be my strong suit."

Spencer's lips blindly found his, reassuring him that she had no doubts.

"No. I don't _think _you're going to be great; I _know _you will. Now, as much as I love this deep conversation, let's-talk-about-our-future-stimulation thing, I love sleep even more. I love you and goodnight."

But even with Spencer's vote of confidence about his paternal abilities, Toby was still having doubts. His father had been so good to him until his mother passed, and then he was so absent - physically and emotionally - that Toby began to feel resentment. Not to mention, when his dad married Jenna's mother, things had basically demolished with their relationship. Toby wanted to make up for his father's mistakes with his own children.

Still, he figured that he had time to craft the skills Spencer already claimed he had; years maybe.

Or so he thought.

Little did he know, that day would come sooner, rather than later.


	10. Read Between the Lines

**_If you're a Team Sparia fan, I think you'll enjoy this chapter ;) _**

* * *

_**Chapter 10: Read Between the Lines**_

_Surprise (noun): an unexpected or astonishing event, fact, or thing. _

_Surprise (verb): cause to feel astonishment or shock._

_There are many different kinds of surprises. They come in many different forms. _

_There are the pleasant surprises, like finding a twenty dollar bill on the sidewalk that no one else will claim._

_There are romantic surprises, like "Oh, you shouldn't have!"_

_There are displeased surprises, such as "No...honestly...you REALLY shouldn't have."_

_There are the "Oh crap!" surprises that bring for many curse words in return. _

_There are surprises of relief, like finding out you didn't lose your phone, it was glued to your ear as you chatted with your mother-in-law the entire time._

_Unfortunately, there are also surprises that are earth shattering, such as senseless killings, or loved ones passing away unexpectedly that you wish you could have spent a little more time with._

_And then there are surprises that seem absolutely dreadful, that blow you away, that destroy you...but really end up being blessings in disguise. _

Muffling her own laughter that was fighting to elope from its' captor, Spencer wagged her finger at Aria to chide her as she recounted her Tale of Taylor.

"It's not funny! I have kept that thing perfectly concealed in the depths of my cupboards like the Cradle of Maya Civilization that's been shunned by 2,000 years of thick jungle! I feel like Miep after hiding Anne Frank in the annex, and like Taylor was a Nazi officer in command that moved the bookshelf!"

Aria continued unloading groceries onto Spencer's kitchen counter, giggling.

"So now you're likening your 4-year-old niece to a cold-blooded savage? A little far-fetched, don't you think?"

Spencer set out a box of Cocoa Puffs.

"Aria, you weren't there. You didn't witness the horror I did! I may never recover...and Toby-"

"Oh, yes, poor, scorned Toby! He must have been traumatized to discover that his wife owns such a risque contraption! I'm sure he's all shook up about it! I'm sure he'll begin shunning you the moment he arrives home from work - _if_ he arrives home from work. I don't know, that's pretty taboo, having a personal-pleasure-buddy," Aria feigned mockery, "I hate to burst you little bubble, babe, but owning a little buddy is more common than you think. What do you think army wives do when their significant others are across the world? What do you think I do when Ezra's out of town?"

Spencer threw her a look as if she'd just eaten something sour, "I really didn't need to hear about your one-person-sexual-escapades, thank you for that haunting vision! Yeah, apparently. I also made the gruesome discovery by ear that Melissa keeps hers out in the open like it's some sort of _Certificate of the Lonely_."

" Maybe she's advertising for a gardener to come mow her lawn? Yeah, now that you mention it I'm starting to feel those nachos we split riding back up the ladder of my esophagus."

Choosing to ignore Aria comparing Melissa's lady anatomy to a garden, Spencer dug back into the grocery tote. Situating the milk and orange juice just purchased at the local market, Spencer fished into the bags again.

"Well, that could be attributed to the developing fetus that's taken up residency in your stomach."

Aria shook her head sadly, "Or it's just a virus. I don't want to get my hopes up!"

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Spencer sang, displaying the assortment of pregnancy tests she and Aria had purchased during their little shopping trip, "You're treading water in the shallow end, but you've been avoiding the deep end."

"I guess now or never. Will you stay with me?"

"Wh- you want me to watch you micturate on a stick?"

"You don't have to watch me pop a squat! I just want you to be there! Spencer, this could change my life. I'm scared, okay?" Aria whined.

Taking Aria's hand, Spencer pulled her into a half hug, leading her into the guest bathroom, "Come on, small fry."

Aria's hands were as shaky as an old bridge, as if her entire body was experiencing an internal earthquake. She'd managed to slip the white stick out of the container, her pants around her ankles.

Spencer folded her arms across her chest, letting her legs dangle over the counter top that she was perched upon. She did her best to grant her friend some privacy despite the small space. Still, she could sense the raven haired girl's discomfort. Swinging her legs precariously, she couldn't help but tease Aria.

"Now's not the time to be shy. Remember, you're little, but you're big. Do you need me to force you to chug some more lemonade to get this show on the road?"

"No, but your snarky comments are not helping! Alright. Just...keep your eyes closed, please? It's already awkward knowing you can hear me urinate."

Reaching over to turn on the sink, Spencer let the water run. "Better?"

Aria inhaled and exhaled, taking position over the toilet, "Thank you."

Halfway through her mental rendition of Yellowcard's _Ocean Avenue_, Spencer heard the toilet flush, Aria's heels clanking across the tiles as she stuck her hands under the faucet, dabbing them off on the towel closest to her. She assured Spencer that she was fully covered now, that she could open her eyes.

Spencer glanced down at the stick Aria was staring at, "So now what?"

Lowering herself so that her chin was level with the counter, Aria didn't even blink. "Now we wait, I guess."

Every single sound in the house surrounding them seemed amplified. The dripping of the leaky faucet Toby had yet to get to on his tedious list of repairs sounded like a waterfall. The shutters on the kitchen window Spencer had propped open for some fresh air sounded like gunshots.

Not even thirty seconds had rolled by before Aria cracked, backing herself against the bathroom door, "I can't do this! I just can't! I mean, how do we even know this test is accurate? We purchased it for a dollar! What if tells me I'm pregnant, but I'm really not? What if it comes back negative when I'm really carrying a sweater vest clone of Ezra?"

"The clerk said they use those in the clinic!" Spencer pointed out.

"The clerk was also a pre-puberty teenager that couldn't count change!"

"You know what," Spencer growled, tearing open a second pregnancy test, "If you're so concerned, I will take one too, okay? I'm not pregnant, so if my test reads anything else, we know it's a fail and we'll go to the store and get a more pricey one!"

Aria was about to object, but Spencer already had her pants down to her ankles, whipping the stick out of the box and placing it in the proper place. Pulling up her skinny jeans back up, she set the test down next to Aria's, lathering her hands with Warm Apple Cider foaming soap.

Once the test was lounging with Aria's, she took Aria by the hand, removing her from the bathroom and leading her back out into the kitchen.

"We're distracting you from self destruction as you wait. Here, lend me a hand, will you? By the time we finish unpacking all of the food my husband demands, the tests will be fertile."

Aria was hesitant, but conformed to her tall friend's suggestion, stuffing her arms with various non-perishable containers. It took her awhile to manage to open the pantry door with all she was juggling. She laughed loudly when she pulled on the drawstring light.

"Uh, Spence, do you seriously keep everything in here alphabetized?"

"Yes! Make sure you put the bag of marshmallows next to the instant mashed potatoes!"

"Yeah, wouldn't want to throw off the universe...has it been three minutes yet? I can't wait any longer. I feel like I'm watching popcorn pop in the microwave, knowing it's burnt, but unable to move."

When at last the time above the oven indicated that the tests they had both taken were fertilized, the girls crept back into the bathroom.

Poor Aria looked as though she was going to wilt over like a dehydrated flower at any moment, and she was refusing to let her eyes travel towards the stick she'd prepared, so Spencer took matters into her own hands - literally.

Snatching the test by the handle, Spencer snarled at Aria, holding up the stick to her own campfire eyes. She squinted, referring briefly back to the instructions that were included with the pregnancy kit. The flicking embers in her eyes escalated into an explosion of untamed flames, fiercely aglow.

There were two delicate, pink, parallel lines in the little window of film: it was unmistakable!

Giddily looking downwards at her too-nervous-to-function partner of The Justice League, Spencer refrained from squealing with happiness.

"It's positive! Congratulations, Aria! According to _First Response'_s 99% accuracy rate, you're in delicate condition!"

Aria's face was not reflecting the assumed excitement, however.

Placing a hand on Aria's shoulder, Spencer traced a pattern there, "Don't be scared, Aria. This is great news! Isn't it?"

"Uh," Aria started awkwardly, grabbing Spencer's shoulders and redirecting her to face the counter. She drew attention to the other pregnancy test that had been forgotten on the marble counter-top near the sink. "It would be, if _I _was pregnant. Trust me, _I'm_ not scared, but maybe _you_ should be..."

Spencer, for one so smart, wasn't following Aria's desperate drift.

"Spencer, that's not my test! That one is _yours_!"

There's this moment in horror films where the sweet, young, doe-eyed protagonist realizes that their axe bearing rival is standing behind them...and presently, Spencer could easily be described as having that moment. She'd probably release an iconic, blood curdling scream, but at the moment was as mute as a maggot, as silent as the grave, as...well, you get the point.

A witness to the gradual soaking of reality filling Spencer up like a pitcher of milk, Aria pushed her lips back into a grimace. She felt like she had front row reservations at the theater for a silent film, suddenly. Like a helpless movie-goer, Aria watched as the color drained completely from Spencer's face; her skin now asylum white. The white part of Spencer's eyes as her irises rolled backwards under her eyelids made her look an albino Storm from Xmen. One minute she was staring at Spencer, and the next, she wasn't.

It was like watching a tree being sawed down, only no one forewarned by calling timber.

Spencer had fainted.

* * *

_**Hmm...I wonder who could be on their way? ;) **_

_**I'd love to hear back from you guys! There might be a follow up chapter coming to you either tomorrow night or Friday morning, but I suppose that depends on how much you want it...**_

_**How will Spencer tell Toby? WILL she tell Toby? How will he react? **__**Plus, Spencer should really learn to lock her doors; "This isn't the 1950's." **_


	11. To Tell or Not to Tell

**_Chapter 11: To Tell or Not to Tell? _**

* * *

Following her return from her little trip to the floorboards, a nice cup of tea courtesy of a concerned munchkin with inky hair, and the return home of her equally distressed husband, - thanks to Aria's beckoning - Spencer was exhausted. She just wanted to sleep everything away. Aria had deposited her on the couch in the living room with her feet propped up on every pillow in sight, an ice-pack coating her forehead.

From her location on the couch, Spencer could hear Toby bidding Aria goodbye in the foyer, vaguely making out his hand on her best friend's back as he walked her out.

She had only caught bits and pieces of their conversation, for every few minutes of intense head nods and shoulder raises, the pair would look back at her through the archway, lowering their tones in secrecy. Spencer prayed that Aria hadn't leaked her little secret, because what had happened in the bathroom that morning was classified as strictly confidential between the two friends. She really didn't want Toby clued in, not yet. Not until she was able to attend to her first ultrasound, which Aria had already agreed to be present for.

Aria's faint voice rang out, or maybe Spencer's eardrums were just as full of whooshing emotions as her mind right now, calling a goodbye to Spencer.

"Bye, Spence. If you need anything, call me. I mean it!"

Spencer wanted to shout goodbye right back, but that would take too much effort. She could have waved goodbye, she supposed, but right now her arms were as heavy as her head.

When at last the distinctive sound of the door shutting brought Toby back to her side, Spencer permitted the blinds on her eyeballs to be lifted, coming face to face with her handsome, blue-eyed husband. His arms were on either side of the couch, and he was leaning over her figure.

"Hi," she whispered gruffly.

Toby shook his head at her, "Hey, baby. You gave us quite a scare, you know, fainting like that."

His voice was soft and refreshing.

"Yeah, one minute you're up and the next you're down."

That sentence held so much meaning that it made Spencer's throat burn. That overwhelming whooshing sound she'd heard before her fainting spell was returning, along with the tightening in the chest she had experienced prior to her test of gravity.

Suddenly it hit her: the stick! The pregnancy test! What if Toby found it? Where was it? Was it still on the floor of the guest bathroom? Had Toby already seen it? What if Aria had showed it to him? There was no way he would have arrived home from his first job early without interrogating Aria as to why Spencer had suddenly fainted out of the blue.

Willing herself to sit up, groaning as her eyes filled with dark clouds, Spencer's hands began journeying through the tangles of blankets that were piled over her legs, her ponytail whipping around to such a degree that it seemed she was head banging at a punk-rock concert. She had to find that little devil, and she had to find it fast.

Toby continued to stare quizzically at his wife, unsure of the true cause of her sudden, odd behavior.

"Come on, you," he insisted, shoveling his hand up under her legs, "Up to bed you go!"

Had her energy not been kidnapped, Spencer would have put up a fight. She'd be wiggling around like a frightened kitten on their way to the vet's office for shots. But right now, even using her voice was laborious. Huffing in defeat, she tucked her arms into her chest, her weight shifting like she was riding on a dirt road as Toby carried her up the steps to their bedroom. She was thankful for a steady surface when he submerged her onto their bed, immediately sinking into the comfort of their sheets and inhaling the scent of pine-cones, mint, and laundry detergent.

Toby lifted her legs to remove her shoes, before tucking them securely under the duvet, rolling it upwards until it reached Spencer's armpits.

He traveled towards the bay window, squeezing behind their Tiffany blue love seat to draw shut the matching curtains, drowning out the sunlight.

Turning back to Spencer, whom had a hand draped over her head and was blinking at him, Toby smiled softly. Sitting down next to her, his back to her legs, he twisted his upper body to place his hands on her hips, placing a lingering kiss on the heart shaped curve where her collarbones met her neck. Spencer sighed, her chest moving deeply as she let her lips meet his hair, her fingers coming up to dig into those chocolate waves. She raked them back and forth, her eyes rolling back as Toby increased the altitude of his mouth.

"Mm, now my legs really feel like jelly."

Sniggling, Toby left one last kiss against her skin, sitting back up, "What's going on? You seemed to be feeling just fine this morning when I left for work. Did you forget to eat again? Spencer, you have got to stop neglecting your health for your studies."

"It wasn't for my studies!" Spencer argued, "I was...taking your advice to loosen up a bit by spending some quality girl time with my favorite female companion!"

Electing to play it up to avoid further suspicion - though in reality she'd scarfed down a donut and nachos earlier- Spencer went along with Toby's suggested diagnosis.

"You're right. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Toby tssked her softly, leveraging his body up from the bed, "What can I make you for lunch then, my lady?"

Spencer smiled bravely despite the knots in her stomach, "Depends. Do you have any specialties of the day?"

"Actually, we do. I would highly recommend the Chicken Salad Panini. Our sides include potato chips, carrot sticks, salad, or soup."

"Hmmm...yeah, I'll go ahead and take your word for it. Surprise me with my side. If I don't like it, can I return it?" she teased.

"So hard to please! Be right back."

Toby's exit was like a curtain drawing closing night of a musical production. It was as if Spencer had been harnessed into a corset that restricted her air supply. She could emotionally see the laces in the back coming untied, and brave smile she'd been faking wiped away like being smeared over with a wet cloth.

On the plus side, she reasoned, it didn't seem like Toby had discovered her pregnancy test.

But on the other hand, there was no way she'd be able to play this off and hide it from him much longer.

* * *

Polishing off the rest of her Panini and soup, Spencer brushed her fingers over Toby's arm, "That was delicious. I'm feeling a little better. Thank you."

Toby caressed her hand, "I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to the chef."

Her lips moving to Toby's, Spencer rubbed them against Toby's, her eyes zoning downwards, "Or you could let me personally deliver the message."

The connecting of their lips sent a shiver up Spencer's arms, and for the briefest of moments, Toby was able to distract her with his passionate movements against her soft lips. However, the dawning of what had happened earlier that day was just as fresh in her mind as the orange juice Toby had brought up for her. Detaching from their fiery duel, she sank back into the pillow, pushing the breakfast tray from her lap towards Toby.

"What is it?" Toby asked.

Spencer shook her head, forcing another rehearsed, tight lipped smile. "Still a bit dizzy, that's all. I kind of just want to sleep the rest of the day."

Yawning, she adjusted against the mattress once more as Toby gathered her dishes and leftovers.

"What time do you have to be in Ironhollow?"

As part of his new double shifts to help pay off some of their bills, Toby had been enlisted in a one-week contract for a project a few towns over. It was about 120 miles North of Rosewood, and Spencer hated the distance, because she knew that not only would Toby be far in the case of an emergency, he also wouldn't be in bed with her. He'd probably be just laying down for some shut eye when she'd be rising for her first class in the morning. It bothered her that he'd be leaving soon, she always missed him when he was gone, but it was probably for the best right now. At least then she'd have some time to sort everything out, to devise a plan, to make an appointment to see a doctor without Toby breathing down her neck. And maybe_ finally_ get some sleep.

It's not that Spencer didn't sleep because of Toby being around, but his presence was extremely valued now that they spent a great majority of their time apart. In fact, she was seeing less of him now than she was when they were living in two separate homes prior to being married. So on the rare occasion they were both home at the same time, and not grouchy, Spencer forced herself to stay awake to spend time with Toby. Their schedules couldn't be more opposite, but their dedication to each other was still the same.

Passing a quick look at the clock hanging on the wall, Toby sighed sadly, "I should probably head out now actually. I've got a long drive ahead of me, especially with this weather. The roads aren't exactly in the best condition."

"Great," Spencer whined. _One more thing for me to worry obsessively over tonight. _"Promise me you'll text me when you're there?"

Also not a fan of the distance and the time they spent apart, though it was only temporary, Toby hovered back over his beauty, mindful not to press his entire body weight on her. His lips against hers were both soft but firm, making sure he discharged as much feeling into it as possible. Spencer was prompt in her retaliation, meeting the same movements of his lips, but with magnified intensity. Every single rational, panicked thought escaped her as goosebumps decorated her skin.

The feeling of his body leaving hers only added to her goosebumps, and they exchanged words of love before Toby headed out for his second job. She had needed that kiss, that comfort so desperately after her day. Too bad it couldn't last.

* * *

A bath, five episodes of Grey's Anatomy and two bowls of cereal later, Spencer was ready for bed. She'd gotten her text from Toby as asked, and felt less nervous now- at least about his well being.

It was dark out, and Toby was right - the weather was pretty bad. The wind was howling like a tornado was about to roll through Rosewood, causing the shutters to clank against the windows eerily. It had been raining on and off, and Spencer had to keep turning up the volume on the television set in the living room.

Realizing that she still had yet to bring in the mail and put out the recycle bin for the morning, Spencer headed to the garage, placing her feet into Toby's extra pair of work boots he kept by the side door- they were always filled with mud. Wrapping herself up tighter in her bathrobe, she swung upon the side door that led to the garage. Carefully walking down the stoned pathway, she opened the small door to their old garage, reaching for the recycle bin. To her surprise, the automatic garage door was already open. Rolling her eyes, Toby must have forgotten to shut it again.

The motion activated light Toby had installed on the side of the house went off as Spencer passed it, but on her way back with the mail, it refused to do anything. Jumping up and down on her feet in an attempt to get it to turn back on, she waved her arm back and forth. It still remained stubborn to acknowledge her presence. Spencer decided to call it quits, but not before slipping and skidding her knee. Winter was ending, but it was unusually cold out still, and the rain had caused patches of ice on the cement. Cursing, she limped back inside, but not before shutting the garage door behind her. Examining her wound, she barely nudged the side door shut with her hip before heading into the guest bathroom to clean up.

It was unusual that the sight of her own blood make her feel nausea, but it did. A hot, putrid sensation climbing up her throat, there was the bitter taste of her soup she'd had for lunch combined with her lucky charms she'd downed for a lazy dinner. Somehow, they didn't taste so magically delicious rising back up her throat now, it tasted like metal and something else she couldn't really describe. Barely making it over the toilet in time, she relieved her stomach of all the contents, washing her face and mouth.

Flicking off all of the lights on the lower level of the house, Spencer limped back upstairs to she and Toby's bedroom, the warm chocolate and blue shades immediately bringing her a semi-sense of comfort. She really hated sleeping alone when Toby was gone, but now she really needed rest. Not even bothering to throw on the light as she entered, Spencer shed her bathrobe to reveal her pleated pajama shorts and hooded sleep shirt.

Tossing back the covers, Spencer crawled right in, welcoming the warmth; it was like sticking socks into the dryer and putting them on right away. Rolling over, she let her eyes close, snuggling deep into Toby's pillow. It smelled like him, and if she wrapped her arms around it, she could almost pretend he was there.

* * *

The red flickering numbers on the alarm clock alerted Spencer that it was only three in the morning when she stirred. She wasn't sure entirely what woke her. A down-pouring of rain hitting the roof and windows had her persuaded that was the source of her premature awakening, or maybe she sensed that Toby would be home in another two hours.

Following the tossing of her cookies for the second time, Spencer trailed into the dark hallway being illuminated by lightning flashes. A hair-rising scratching sound was coming from behind her, and she slowly prepared herself to turn, expecting to see some sort of demented claw tearing open the window screen. The archway window looked the same as it always did by the time she mustered up enough courage to turn on her heels. Exhaling when she noticed it was not a creature, but a tree branch, Spencer covered her mouth, willing the acid back down.

Laughing at herself for how pathetic she was to get so terrified over nothing, she began heading back into her bedroom when something caught her eye.

There was a soft blue glow coming from Toby's man-cave Getting to the bottom of this so she could go back to sleep, Spencer entered his manly space, looking around. Sure enough, it was only his screensaver on his computer.

"Wow, Spencer. No more television for you late at night."

Whisking past the window that out-looked onto the side of the yard, Spencer took pause.

Leaning closer and closer to the window, she pressed her nose against it, fogging up the window. All of a sudden, one of the shutters hit the window, causing her to jump backwards, screaming. Calming herself down and catching her breath, this time she was able to get a clearer view, though the rain on the window left it a bit distorted. There was a glowing coming from the garage...and that wasn't the only thing.

The door was wide open.

* * *

_**Dun dun dun! Oh, cliffhangers, it was only a matter of time before I brought them back ;) **_

_**You know the routine, right? Send them in, I update, you find out what's going on sooner... :) **_


	12. A Nightmare on West Elm Street

**_Oops, I did it again. Ha-ha, I'll take your frustrations with the cliffy as a good thing ;) As you guys read this next chapter, I just want to remind you: this story has a sequel remember? You know I'm a sucker for happy endings...so, grab your comfort pillow and blanket and stick tight. This chapter is in the spirit of Halloween - my fave holiday! :) Also, I have a concern. My stories are put in the M section for a reason, they're not really risque in content, but they are aimed at a mature audience. That said, from this point out, I am asking that you be of appropriate age to read this story. I only ask this because apparently there are 12 and 13 year olds out there and it makes me extremely nervous. The content on fanfiction has ratings for a specific reason. This is not to be mean or take away any readers I have, but in all reality, if you are reading mature content, you should be at an appropriate age. _**

**_Thank you! xoxo_**

**_ Chapter 12: A Nightmare on West Elm Street _**

* * *

Spencer could have sworn that she'd shut the garage door and turned the light off- she was very conscious about conserving energy and electricity. Still, if it stayed on or open any longer, it would drive her nuts and she wouldn't be able to sleep until she fixed it. Maybe she'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts about being pregnant, that she'd simply forgotten. Convincing herself to wash away her foolish, child-like fears of being in a real life horror flick, Spencer latched onto the stairwell railing, searching around blindly for the light switch. You'd think after living in this old house for so many months, she'd know the location by heart by now.

Finally locating the switch, she flicked it, looking up to the aged chandelier for a response. Not even a spark. The glow coming from Toby's man cave had faded, and suddenly Spencer's body was enclosed with darkness so thick she thought she might stumble down the steps. Using her hands and toes to guide her, she made it down, trying every light she passed as she headed for the side door by the guest bedroom.

"Great," she pouted, "That's just great. Perfect timing. Goes along perfectly with the cliched knocking on windows, thunderstorms and feeling of confusion! What's next? Freddy Krueger? Slender Man? That chick with a really bad hair day from The Ring? No. No, it can't be from that movie. All my TVs are off. Because the freaking power is out! Okay. Okay. This is not a big deal, you are just fine, Spencer. You're just going to avoid dark, ominous shadows, shouting hello to invite a potential vengeful mass murderer to make your body into a buffet. You're going to avoid taking a shower and wearing suggestive pajamas..."

Looking down, Spencer tugged on the drawstrings of her shorts, "This is Amish attire in comparison! You're safe!"

Her pathetic attempt at a pep-talk was failing miserably, causing her to pipe down. At last her stringy fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and she stepped out onto the walkway, this time foolishly barefoot. Hopping as a result of the icy-sting upon her toes, Spencer made it to her destination without turning into an ice-sculpture, though her nose was numb, and her breath was visible in the form of mist. A school of fog sailed by once Spencer had disengaged the light and closed the garage door. She wondered if it was the sensor acting up again; sticky-noting a remainder for Toby to fix it tomorrow.

Wishing she would have grabbed a flashlight before venturing into the midnight hour, Spencer traveled back through the fog, her visibility handicapped by the density of it.

She was almost to the door when the sensor activated light on the side of the house went off, blinding her. Shielding her eyes and letting out a feline hiss, Spencer choked up a few words her mother would never approve of, fumbling to find her way back inside her cozy home. She couldn't wait to retreat back to her bed and smother herself in a sea of covers that smelled like Toby; if he wasn't there to defrost her, that was the next best thing.

This time she double checked to be certain that the side door was secured by the lock. Her eyes felt like they were being filled with sand now, the need to sleep weighing down her movements as she trudged into the kitchen, wanting to wet her whistle before getting the remaining ten of her forty winks. The power was still out, so she settled on tap water, balancing a hand against the kitchen sink as she guzzled it down. The sensor light in the backyard going off caused her to spray her water all over the window. Was that a human shadow she'd just seen running past?

It was probably her neighbor's teenage son coming home late for curfew again, hoping their fence to get into his bedroom faster. Toby had caught him the other night and gave him a strict talking to, but maybe they should install a sprinkler system timed to go off at this hour to prevent it from happening again. By the time the light went off again, there was a loud grumbling from behind her.

If the ceiling wasn't vaulted, Spencer would have head butted it. Whipping herself around, dirty steak knife from the sink in hand, she exhaled in complete relief when she realized the power was back on and it was simply the delayed settling of the ice-machine on their refrigerator. Since when was she this jumpy? Maybe it was because she was carrying another life now? Was she more alert, or more paranoid? She couldn't tell. But she could tell she was beyond exhaustion at this point. If she didn't head up to bed now, Toby would find her at the bottom of the stairs passed out in a few hours, he'd probably trip over her.

As she ascended upwards, the stairs behind her creaked. In fact, it felt like something was right behind her, breathing down her neck. She didn't want to turn around, she just wanted to bolt up the steps and lock herself in the bedroom until Toby was home to laugh at her for her wild imagination getting the best of and ground her from the coffee maker. She would have bolted too, but the sound of something colliding with the floor boards called for pause. Willing her eyes to adjust to the dark, she gradually continued, though her body had stiffened.

"It's just a house," she breathed, "Just an old, spooky house."

But then as she rounded the top of the stairs, she was certain the sounds were not her imagination. They were very much real...and they were very much coming from her office. She could hear shuffling of some sort, and then the muffling of voices; two voices. Two foreign voices. The board beneath her body weight creaked, and she halted, her breathing growing shallow. It couldn't be Toby. His truck wasn't in the driveway. He wouldn't ever scare her like this. But who could it be? Who was in her house? And why?

She was unfortunately about to find out, because the shadows under the lining of the door altered position, and suddenly the door was sliding open. Spencer gasped, shuffling backwards down the hall, her entire body unsteady much like her frightened heart. Her attempt to sneak away failed, because her back collided with the hallway table, causing the clutter of vases and picture frames.

She was unable to make out what the voices were saying in harsh tongues, but they didn't sound too happy. Sinking down to the side of the table, she held onto the arm of it, hoping she'd blend in, hoping that if they came after her, they'd walk right past her and she could make a run for the front door or call for help. The realization that her phone was still in she and Toby's bedroom dawned on her, and she let out a quiet sob. She and Toby didn't have a land-line, it was too expensive. That cell phone was her only hope!

Making a break for the bedroom, she could hear someone right behind her, causing her to scream. Throwing the door shut behind her, she scooted over the love-seat to hold off the intruder, wishing their room had a lock. Crawling on all hands and knees, she searched for her phone. Finding it on the dresser, she climbed under the bed, frantically dialing.

Toby's face flashed on the screen; it was ringing. When it went to voice mail after two rings, Spencer whimpered.

The intruder was pounding on the door now, shoving into it with enough force to pry it open.

She took her trembling hand and covered her cries, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn't even want to breathe right now and give herself away. Though, it seemed, she was hiding in the most cliche spot possible. That would of course be the first place the intruder would look!

"I saw her! She's in here, she can't hide for long," one of the deep voices announced.

"Hey, how about we do less talking and more cleaning? Check this out. How much do you think this ring is worth?"

Gasping, Spencer looked down in sheer terror at her wedding finger. Her ring was absent from the usual position. She usually took it off before bed to apply lotion and such, tonight she'd forgotten to put it back on. If they took her ring, Toby would never forgive her for taking it off in the first place. It was a foolish, risky move, but the mama bear in her came out, claws and all.

Phone still in hand, unbeknownst to Spencer that it was dialing Aria and Ezra's place, awakening them from their stages of slumber. Aria was on the other line now, groggily saying Spencer's name, though her volume increased on the other side when Spencer flung at the intruders.

Using the vase from the flowers Toby had brought home yesterday for her, Spencer smashed it into the back of one of their heads, kicking at the other one in the back of the knees; a known weak spot for anyone. The ring flew out of the hands of one of the masked men, and Spencer dove for it. She scrambled to reach for it as one of the burly men tripped her, grabbing at her leg and dragging her across the floor.

Grunting, Spencer dug her nails into the wood, trying to resist. The man, however, was much stronger.

He dragged Spencer under him like a ferocious wild animal attacking an antelope, forcing Spencer to turn around and face him. She fought with her fists and with her knees, but he pinned her down. Wriggling around in resistance, Spencer continued to thrust her knees upward, wanting to break free from this nightmare.

"Oh come on, sweetheart. Don't put up a fight, make this easier on yourself, huh? We just want that ring. It looks pretty valuable."

That ring _was _valuable, but not just in pennies worth. It had belonged to Toby's mother.

"Over my dead body!" Spencer growled.

The man of mystery holding her down laughed, clearly amused, "Got ourselves a spitfire here, man," he looked back down at Spencer, and through the mask she could see the green in his eyes, "I like my ladies feisty."

"Pig!" Spencer barked back, "I'm someone else's feisty lady!"

The big man in charge that was helping himself to the jewelry and emergency fund jar kept atop the dresser was like a kid at Halloween; stashing away the goods like candy into his _Duncan's Repair Shop_ duffelbag. The embroidery didn't go unnoticed by an observant Spencer, even in her dangerous position. She wasn't dubbed Veronica Mars for nothing, although tonight, she was feeling more like Xena the Warrior Princess. Satisfied with the weight of his bag, the candy-picker grabbed a framed photograph of Toby and Spencer on their wedding day, squatting down to Spencer's level.

He opened his mouth, one of his front teeth silver; his breath stinking of hamburgers.

"You mean this guy?" he turned the photo to look at it, scoffing, "Nice tux, nice dress. Congratulations. Consider this my gift...to the both of you."

Like his fist was made of metal, he smashed into it, destroying the frame and glass. Spencer's eyes filled with tears.

The same man looked to his partner in crime - pun intended - clearing his throat. "We've still got that room across the hall to check and then we've got to get out of here. People will start coming out to walk their dogs soon. We can't risk being seen in our super villain gear leaving a house with a bag full of valuables!"

"What do we do with the girl?"

Puncher-man glared down at Spencer, "Find something and tie her up."

That same man headed for Toby's special room, as the one restraining Spencer removed himself a bit from her, keeping his hands locked around her wrists tightly, "Now listen," he said, his tone almost gentle, almost empathetic, "We don't want to hurt you. That's not what we set out to do. We just want what we came here for, and then we're out of your hair. But in order to do that, you have to stay out of our way. And since you're a little pit-bull I'm going to have to tie you up until we finish. No hard feelings?"

But Spencer wasn't having that. As soon as her captor started to get up, she kicked his lower stomach, making him release her hands. Scratching as much as she could, she pulled back the mask, revealing his face. He looked stunned to be de-masked, cursing loudly as he grunted in pain. Spencer spat in his face, scampering to get up. She could see the ring glistening near the foot of the bed and once again went after it.

"Shit!" her punching bag yelped, "She saw me! We can't let her go!"

"Dammit, Roger! This is not in the plan!" big bozo scolded, "We tried to play nice, lady, but now we're going to have to do away with you. Can't have you turning us in, now can we? Don't worry. We'll make it as quick and painless as we can..."

Spencer head butted the boss-man as he approached her, and he came after her again. Rebutting with a shove, he locked his arms around Spencer's neck, pinning her against the wall, banging her head against the mirror hanging on the wall. Spencer gasped in pain as her vision grew blurry, gagging as the man applied more pressure to her voice box. Reaching for something, anything, she felt around for a weapon. Blindly fetching a shard of glass from her collision, she stabbed the man in the side of the neck, allowing herself to break free as he cried out in agony.

"Get that bitch and kill her!"

Tweedle-dumb, now sans ski-mask, was hot on Spencer's trail as she rounded the top of the stairs. As he closed in on her, Spencer lost her balance, and took a tumble down the steps. She came to a stop halfway down, trying to pick herself up before he caught her, but it was too late. He was lifting her by the collar of her pajama top. He too lost balance, because Spencer dug her thumbs into his eyeballs, causing the two to go tumbling down the remainder of the steps.

Coming to, Spencer pushed the man off of her as he moaned about his injuries, and she army crawled to where her phone had landed in the foyer.

Intruder number one that had been a victim to her glass stabbing had joined them downstairs now, and kicked the phone out of Spencer's line of vision in twisted pleasure.

"This is not the way it was supposed to be!" he stressed, "But I've got kids, and I can't let their daddy end up in prison!"

He took aim at her ribs with his shoes, one blow after another. The pain in her ribs was spreading to the rest of her body. It felt like someone had drove a metal rod through her entire chest, like her body was made of glass and it was shattering with each crucial blow. She whined, hurling over to try to breathe, but even that hurt too much. Her ears were ringing, and everything around her was foggy. She looked up, and received a hit to her face, sending blood flying. She flew backwards, too weak to move now. But she needed to. She needed to get out. Not just for her, but for this baby she was apparently carrying. For Toby. For her friends. For her family.

It just simply wasn't in her blood to give up, not like this. When the attacker thought she'd been bruised and battered enough, he went to assess his partner.

That was when the front window blew out, and Spencer could faintly see someone diving in.

What happened next was a series of earsplitting bones being cracked and popped in a violent exchange. Spencer wasn't sure who this new person was, but for all she knew, he was going to come after her next. Willing herself to use what little strength she had left to get up, grabbing at her ribs, Spencer closed the distance between she and the front yard. She stepped on glass in the process, crying out some more. Her bloody footprints followed as she flung herself out onto the cold sidewalk, running, running, her head turned backwards at her house in horror.

Her entire body jerked backwards as she came into harsh contact with something...or rather, someone.

"No, no, no!" Spencer cried, not even realizing she was screaming at the top of her lungs frantically, "No, no, no! Don't kill me, please!"

"Spencer!" Aria called back, prying Spencer out of Ezra's arms as he held her into place, cupping her best friend's tear and blood stained face, "Spencer! You're okay now! You're safe, you're safe! It's me! It's Aria. You're safe!"

Spencer broke down, pushing herself against Aria, her feet giving out from under her.

Ezra was punching away on his phone, bringing it up to his ear as he helped Aria lower Spencer to the grass, "Hi, yes. This is an emergency! I need assistance out on West Elm Street...the house number is 212. Please, hurry! Yes...yes...we need an ambulance...and the police!"

While Ezra remained on the line, Aria tried to comfort Spencer, throwing her over coat around Spencer's shaking frame.

At last, the ambulance arrived, along with two cop cars. Ezra followed as the police raided the house, bringing out a long haired boy in torn up clothing, his eyes finding Spencer immediately. He pointed to her, and soon the police, he, and Ezra were heading her way as the paramedics unloaded the gurney to transport her on.

The police wanted statements, they wanted answers, but Spencer couldn't give them any, not now. She tuned them out, permitting the paramedics to load her up. Aria piled in with her, informing Ezra to follow them to the hospital, and would he please call Toby.

Still, as the doors shut, Spencer could see the blonde haired boy. Her next door neighbor's teenage son, Adam.

* * *

**I know, I know, I know! I'm hiding, I'm going into hiding now in the lost city of Atlantis! Another cliffhanger and I know this chapter was not pleasant by any means. I hated writing it, to be completely honest here. It was not fun. **

**No flames, please! You can be mad at me for now, but I just wanted to provide you all with a friendly reminder that obviously, things will be okay, because if you've read _After All That We've Been Through_, which this prequel is based on, you know that the Cavanaughs live happily ever after :) Have faith in me! **

**You definitely want to tune into the next chapter, though! Toby's about to storm into the hospital...how will he react? What will become of the burglars? And what's the deal with this next door neighbor? Also, what about the baby? Will Toby find out? **

**There's a chance I might update tomorrow...you know...depending on how much you want to be pacified. ;) **

**Love you ALL and I thank you so much for being my audience. **


	13. The Aftermath

**Chapter 13: The Aftermath**

* * *

Aria had just finished deflecting off the remainder of the officers attempting to interrogate Spencer in her hospital room, when Toby barged through the double hospital doors from the lobby.

Spencer could hear his heavy footsteps, knowing he was going to be pretty upset. Her head hurt and she couldn't deal with anything else right now. She just wanted to drown out any sound around her; all the voices, all the people standing at the door to stare at her like she was an exhibit in a zoo gallery. Rolling over onto her side, Spencer focused on the view outside the window. The sun was starting to come up, and it was like looking through a stained glass window at a chapel with the marriage of warm colors. It was so different from her view only hours ago; a view so cold, all in blues and blacks and flashing red and white.

Pulling the thin, coral colored hospital sheets up to hide her body, Spencer unwillingly got a whiff of the bleach scent often affiliated with hospitals. Everything was so clean here, you'd think she'd be in heaven. But she was not. Now wasn't the time to marvel over how sterile this room was, or how the nurse's perfume reminded her of her mother, or how the soft voice of one of the interns favored Toby's. Clamping her eyes shut, she braced herself for Toby's entrance, a shooting pain in her ribs as she altered her position a bit so that her back was the only thing in view.

"Where is she?" Toby demanded as soon as his eyes set on Aria's solemn face. He tried to push past her, but Aria tugged on his arm.

"Toby," she started, shaking her head, her voice cracking. "Just...prepare yourself, okay?"

Toby's nostrils were flaring. "But she's...fine?"

"Would you be?"

Looking down at the spotted pattern on the floor, Toby let his shoulders drop. A hand coming up to his face to massage his eyebrows, he looked back up at Aria, a bit more collectively this time.

Aria continued speaking to him, almost as if she was speaking to a child, knowing this must be sensitive for him. "They just finished abrading the glass from her feet...she's pretty sore."

On cue, a doctor on-call with coppery blonde hair, a figure similar to that of a twelve-year old, and the pearliest teeth Toby had ever seen approached the pair. Removing her hand from her clipboard, she extended it towards Toby, offering a gentle smile as her golden eyes flickered towards Spencer's temporary room.

"You must be Mr. Cavanaugh. Good morning, I'm Dr. Elizabeth Foster, I'm the attending looking after the care of your wife, Spencer-"

Toby cut her off, his lips trembling in fury. "Does this look like a good morning to you, Dr. Foster? I don't want your sympathy and I don't want your small talk. Just inform me of my wife's condition so I can get in there and see her!"

The bombshell with the clipboard nearly dropped it, her smile washing away like chalk on a rainy day. She opened her mouth, but then closed it again. Trying one more time, she went with a more dull approach, speaking in monotone.

"Your wife sustained copious blows to the upper chest. We're looking at multiple fractures to her ribs. They're limited to her left side. Currently we've placed adhesive strapping around the perimeter to assist in splinting the area. We'd like to keep her overnight to continue observing her for signs of hemothorax; her breathing has been a bit irregular so we just want to be safe before we discharge her. She's comfortable now, but the recovery process will be slow, movements won't come as easily. Furthermore, Mrs. Cavanaugh also obtained a few minor lacerations to the underside of her feet. We've gone ahead and removed all foreign objects and have sterilized and wrapped her feet. You'll be happy to know that the state of -"

Having heard enough, Toby didn't even let Dr. Foster finish. Raising up a hand in dismissal, he walked briskly into the room, slamming the door behind him.

Dr. Foster called after him through the door, "Mr. Cavanaugh!"

He faced the door, his hand still around the silver handle, as if he was bracing himself for someone to break in and tear him away. Aria had warned him that he'd be taken aback by Spencer's appearance, and he had to admit, he wasn't prepared to see her like this, lying in a hospital bed, all broken and bruised.

That's how his insides felt. He beat himself up the entire drive back to Rosewood for leaving Spencer alone like that. He would never forgive himself, and he'd never forgive the bastards that put Spencer through this hell ride.

Knowing he'd never be ready, Toby slowly turned himself around, raising his eyes to Spencer's bed. He could see the outline of her figure through the thin sheets, but she wasn't facing him. Gradually taking the steps to decrease the distance between them, Toby approached the side of her bed.

"Spencer?"

"Go away, Toby. I don't want you to see me like this. Please, just go."

Her refusal to see him stung his heart, but he knew that was nothing compared to the pain she was probably experiencing right now. Forcing himself to remain glued to the floor, he shifted his hands into fists, repeating her name, much softer this time.

"Spencer."

Spencer swallowed - hard - rotating her head at a snail's pace so it was in Toby's vision. The rest of her body ached too much to move right now. As soon as she saw his baby blues, her own eyes filled to capacity with emotion, her bottom lip wavering as she bit down on it to try to steady its vibrations.

Toby's heart had never ached this badly. Spencer's doe eyes were filled with pain, with fear. He didn't know how he could fix this, how he could fix her; how he could make this any better. He gasped, stepping backwards from the blow, feeling like a bullet had just ripped through his chest, like someone had reached through that same hole and made a fist around his heart, pulling on it.

Not only did Spencer have a black eye, her lips were crusted in the corner with dry blood, the lower one featuring a small scar. Toby just about lost it when he traveled around to the other side of the bed, peeling back the covers. He ignored Spencer's protests, lifting her gown to examine her wounds first hand. There was definite bruising across her ribs and chest, and she was painted purple, green, yellow and black around those areas. Lowering her gown back down, he carefully crawled into bed with her, cautious not to move her too much as he did. Taking her hand, he wedged it between them, spoiling it with kisses as their fingers locked together automatically.

"Oh baby," he croaked, "Oh baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have never left you alone. I'll never leave you again, I swear."

He promised her with his lips, too, by placing gentle kisses along her face, circling her black eye. His opposite hand cupped her face, his thumb stroking her lips gingerly.

Spencer broke down immediately, her breathing shallow and shaky as a result of the condition of her rib-cage. Her cries were doubled with intensity due to physical pain, yet she could not will herself to stop now that the inevitable dam had given way. It was like waiting out an earthquake. All she could do was hold onto something stable - Toby- and just wait it out. At this point, however, she didn't think she'd ever stop crying. She just wanted to be held. She wanted Toby to just hold her and to forget about the rest of the world.

Regrettably, the world had other plans, intent on interrupting their emotional reunion. It was one of Spencer's nurses, and her face was painted in guilt, for two police officers were lingering behind her, anxious to get a peek in.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cavanaugh, but they just can't wait any longer, I'm afraid. They need a statement," she apologized.

Through trial- and ultimately, error - Spencer made a move to get up, but her body confined her to the bed still; her ribs screaming at her for her recklessness.

The ginger haired officer held up a hand as a peace offering, "Whoa, there. Take it easy. We're sorry to interrupt, but the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can undergo the necessary steps to bringing you justice. We just need a few quick statements, and then we'll be on our way. Do you think you feel up for that, Mrs. Cavanaugh?"

Spencer scoffed, "I'm not really up for anything right now, as you can see. Fine. What do you want to know?"

Pulling up a spare chair, the leading officer popped a squat, taking out a notepad. "We need your account of what took place between pre and post the forced entry. Don't leave out any details, be as specific as you can. The more we know, the better we can assist you. Now, go ahead and start with describing your night."

As asked, Spencer began recounting her hellish nightmare, beginning with her soap opera marathon and shoveling of sugary cereal. She described the strange occurrences that began to take place, filling the authorities in on the opening of the garage door, the flickering of the lights, and the foreign noises inside the house. When it came time to paint them a narrative picture of her violent ordeal, she struggled a bit, leaning into Toby for complete support. She didn't want to look at him, and she certainly didn't want to look at the officers, so she made due with staring down Toby's hand locked in hers.

Describing the nature of the attack was the worst part, having to relive that horror. The nurse had to step in as a referee to help Spencer regain her breath, shooting the officers a protective, warning eyeball. Finding the strength to continue her tale that she wished was fiction, not non-fiction, Spencer summed up the intensity of her injuries as she remembered them rolling in. She recounted how she was pinned to the ground, dragged across the floor, slammed against the wall into a mirror, pushed down the steps, and then treated like a human punching bag as she fought helplessly for her life. It ended with her scampering out of the house in desperation for a hero, not really knowing where she was running to, just that she had to keep running, even though every step she took lodged the glass deeper the soles of her feet.

Ron Weasley look-alike was frantically scribbling down her statements, while the other officer with ebony skin and chocolate hair kept her arms crossed over, her face blank of any emotion, probably as she was trained to remain in situations like these.

Finally, she stepped out of her shadows, both hands now on her belt. "I'm going to ask you to rewind for me a bit, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Excuse me, for being out of line, but what drove you to dive at the intruders initially? You mentioned they kept repeating that they had no intention to hurt you, not at the beginning stages of the robbery...that they reacted to your attack. Am I correct?"

"I was defending myself," Spencer insisted.

"Yes, when they began initiating the attacks. But prior to that, you said you jumped out from under the bed and attacked them, first. Why?"

Spencer's eyes squinted, wishing she had window wipers to clear off her eyeballs of all the tears that were screwing with her visibility. "They were going to get away with something of extreme value to me. I couldn't let them do that."

"Can you describe that object?"

Nodding, Spencer could feel her face contort; she was one more answer away from causing a local flood. "My wedding ring."

Permitting herself to glance feebly at Toby, she explained, "I had taken it off to get ready for bed, just like I always do. I've been pretty distracted these days, what with classes and...life...that I forgot to return it to its place of origin."

The once disappointed officer that had the emotion range of a tin-man finally showed that she was capable of harboring actual emotions. Reaching out to carefully place a hand on Spencer's shoulder, she emitted a microscopic smile.

"That was a very brave thing of you to do. I commend your efforts. However, as heroic as it may be, it was nonetheless foolish."

Spencer almost smiled in return, but the female officer's compliment that ended with a scold made her swallow it back down to the pit of her stomach, where all of her other feelings were swimming shallowly. "I know," she said shamefully, "But there are some things that irreplaceable, ma'am."

Before the officers could reply, Toby beat them to the punch. Brushing back some of Spencer's hair, he let his cheek rest against hers, closing his eyes, "Oh, Spencer, we could always get another ring. I can't get another you."

"But it belonged to your mother. I knew how important it was to you," Spencer reasoned.

Toby shook his head. "Not as important as you."

He turned his attention to the officers, scowling. "Are you almost finished here? I think she's had enough for one day, don't you?"

"While your wife has certainly weathered quite the storm of a lifetime, I'm afraid we have a few more questions. We'll be out of your hair as soon as we get those answers, you have our guarantee," the first officer vowed.

Scratching at his handle-bar mustache, he transferred his friendly, crystal eyes to Spencer. "You said that at one point, there was the sound of a window being blown out. Can you tell us more about this?"

"I-I-I...I was curled over in a heap, sir. It's hard to remember when you're fighting to breath and your vision is pretty much limited to little specks of light coming from the streetlights outside."

"Please, try."

Inhaling, Spencer bit the inside of her cheeks, "I think...I think I saw someone jump through the front window, in the foyer. They jumped in and that's all I remember. I got out of there as fast as I could."

"I'm going to ask you one last question, and I need you to try very hard to focus, okay? At any point, did you witness the potential identity of any of the two suspected intruders? Are there any features you picked up on? Any scars? Tattoos? Clothing labels?"

"Yes," Spencer answered shakily, "I saw one of the men. He had stubble, around his chin and his mouth. He had pear-green eyes...they were down turned...he had...he had a flat nose...but he had a long scare going up and down it. It was shaped kind of like a tree. One of the men, I can't remember...they had...a silver cap tooth...and their breath smelled like...burgers. I saw..."

"Take your time, sweetheart," the nurse encouraged, "Deep breaths."

Spencer nodded, furrowing her brows as she begged her memory not to let her down. She just wanted to rest, and the sooner she recalled all the information she'd retained, the sooner she could attempt to heal. "The man with the teeth, he had...a bag...and on the bag it said something about Duncan's shop. Duncan something."

The two officers swiped glances, before the woman spoke up. "Duncan's Repair Shop?"

"Yes, I-I think that's right. I...it's all a little fuzzy, I'm sorry. I can't...I can't anymore...please."

Toby knew that Spencer had endured enough, but he wanted to know what the fate was of her attackers. While he'd find absolute pleasure in avenging his wife by strangling them with his bare hands, he wanted them behind bars to rot in prison.

Looking to the male officer, he raised an eyebrow quizzically, shielding Spencer's face with both hands now. "The men...please tell me you caught them!"

A swaying of the female officer's head confirmed his worst fear; that those criminals were still out there.

"One of the men escaped. We want to assure you, it seems that these break-ins have been occurring all over neighboring towns. They hit up a convenient shop just the other night. We've got a few leads, but I think your wife here may have just helped us solve the case and solidified our suspicions of the suspects. It appears they don't set out with violent tendencies, they just want goods. It was unfortunate that your wife was the first victim of assault in their little five-finger shopping spree. I want to assure both of you that we're doing everything in our power to bring these assholes down. We've lined up your street with squad cars, your home will be monitored 24 hours a day until we've found this other man. His buddy isn't talking yet, but he will."

If Toby was furious before, he was lining insanity now. His jaw was tight enough to chip his teeth. "I think you should leave, now. She's had enough of your questions."

"Wait!" Spencer cried, "What happened to...there was a boy...he...I think he was our neighbor's son...did he...was he in on this too?"

"No ma'am," the red-head sighed, "Adam Payne jumped through the window to come to your aid. I reckon he saved your life. He's been very concerned about you. He was out in the lobby waiting for an update, which we can't legally give him ourselves. We sent him home about an hour ago. Good kid. Misunderstood, but a good kid. His heart was in the right place, even though he broke curfew. Guess he was in the right place at the wrong time...or in your case...the right time. It's because of him that we've got one of your attackers behind bars tonight. We'll leave you to be, but first I have to insist on getting some pictures for evidence. I know this isn't something you want, but we need to. You have our deepest apologies and our sincerest condolences."

The kind hearted nurse stepped forward, "Honey, you don't have to do this right now if it's all too overwhelming for you. You can refuse if it is in your best interest. They can come back at a later time."

"No. It's okay. I'd rather get it over with, I think that's in my best interest right now."

Smiling, the nurse looked to the officers again, proudly, "A trooper, this one. Haven't seen one like this in years. Alright honey, we're going to get you sitting up."

Spencer's palm came into contact with Toby's chest, her eyes pleading with him. "Toby, I...don't want you in here for this."

"Spencer don't be ridic-"

"Please?"

Toby wasn't too happy with this, but wanted to respect Spencer. As much as he wanted to be there for her, it wouldn't do him any good to further upset her. "Fine," he said eventually, blowing out bits of air, placing a kiss atop her head, "I'll be out here if you need me. I love you."

"I love you, too. Toby? Do you think you could fetch me a cup of coffee, while you're out there?"

A sideways grin graced his face as he stood in the door frame, giving her one last loving look before turning and walking out.

Spencer sighed in relief as he exited, letting the police officers and the nurse lift her clothing and snap their pictures. She was extremely comfortable the entire time, but she knew it was necessary. They finished, bidding her goodbye, promising they'd be in touch and paying her additional visits as needed. Spencer was glad to watch them leave, but she was met with another visitor.

Dr. Foster tapped lightly on the door, reviewing Spencer's clipboard, "Quite the interrogation, you had there, huh? Alright, Spencer, I just need to do some routine checkups. I know they're a nuisance, but I'd like to continue doing them every hour to ensure you're breathing properly."

Using her stethoscope, Dr. Foster positioned it on Spencer's back, the nurse helping hold Spencer upright through her discomfort. The instrument was like ice to her spin, and Spencer wanted to cry all over again, her sensitivity chip on overdrive.

"Deep breath," Dr. Foster ordered softly, "I know, you're doing great. Good. Another? Okay. Sounds good. Just want to check your stomach...I'm sorry if my hands are cold."

Her hands were just as cold as the instrument she'd place on Spencer's skin, but her intentions were warm, and so was her eyes.

"Do you have any questions for me?" Dr. Foster asked, prodding around Spencer's stomach.

Spencer's hair shook as she answered, "Just a request."

Dr. Foster returned her stethoscope to its position around her neck, using her palms to feel around Spencer's jaw, "More blankets? Jello?"

"No. I need you to promise me that you'll avoid bringing up my pregnancy with my husband around. He...he doesn't know yet."

The look on Dr. Foster's face let Spencer know she didn't approve of this favor. She tucked her pen into her pocket, pursing her lips.

"You don't want to tell your husband? Spencer, this is the silver lining; you, despite everything you've experienced, have a healthy child growing inside you. He really should know, especially after everything you just went through."

Eyelashes blinked rapidly as Spencer replied, "Not like this. I can't tell him like this! Not, not here. This isn't the place, and it really isn't the way to tell him...not the time to tell him. It should be happy, right? We're having a baby! He should be happy. Look, I know you don't agree. I know you're just looking out for me as your patient, I get that. But that's all I am to you, a patient...this does not concern you."

"You're absolutely right, Spencer. It's not my place to tell you no, and it's not my place to breach patient-to-doctor confidentiality. But it is my place to advise you. It is my place to look out for you. I'm your doctor? Fine, I'm your doctor. But I'm also a person. I may not know you well, heck, I've known you for just a few hours, other than what your best friend, who is out waiting by that door, has told me. I might know you better than anyone, if you think about it. I know your blood type. I know your medical allergies. I know your immunization history. Those are things I know as medical professional. But there are also things I know, from a different stand point. Like, what it's like to be the victim of malicious, nonsense domestic abuse, where you're not only fighting for your life, but one inside of you. You made it. Your baby made it. Mine didn't. And you know what? I didn't tell my husband. I didn't tell him, because I wanted to protect him. I wanted him to be happy. But Spencer, happiness doesn't come in the form of secrets. You're not protecting him right now, you're not protecting you or your baby. You are delaying this. So there's going to come a time, a time where you wish you would have told him sooner. A time where you know you should tell him. And when that time comes, not as your doctor, but as someone who has gotten to know you in the last few hours inside and out, I recommend you tell him. Tell him, because he's going to want to know. Tell him because you need him to be there. Tell them because while you're going through absolute hell now, he'll be in absolute heaven when he finds out. Tell him because life is short. Tell him because there is no proper time, no proper place."

Stumped by Dr. Foster's passionate speech, Spencer's jaw was hanging down like a chain. The nurse looked equally as shocked.

Dr. Foster gathered herself back together, "Excuse me."

As soon as she stepped out, Spencer looked to the nurse, who also excused herself.

"Tell him," Spencer whispered, "I should tell him."

* * *

Toby returned, as promised, with a cup of coffee in his hand, his cell phone in the other.

"Wow," he observed, shutting the door behind him, "This place really cleared out fast. I sent Aria and Ezra home, told them to call Emily and Hanna and get them up to speed when they can. I also called your parents. Your mother wants to come down tomorrow, to help take care of you and clean up the house. I also called my boss, he's giving me the rest of the week off to be with you. In addition," Toby emptied his hands onto Spencer's bedside tray, "I brought you your small cup of coffee; decaf. Your favorite magazine. And..." he pulled out something from his leather jacket, handing it personally to Spencer, "A rose."

Inhaling the fresh scent of the pink rose Toby had presented her with, Spencer felt a tear roll down her cheek, puffing out her lips for a kiss.

Toby followed her lead, leaning over her to oblige. He let his lips linger there even when she started to pull back, engulfing her face tenderly in his rough, warm hands.

Spencer offered him half of a smile, patting the space beside her for him to join her.

Kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket, Toby shuffled next to her, wrapping an arm around her.

They sat in silence for the longest time, the birds outside the window chirping as the sun thawed the last of the pre-spring snow.

"Spencer," he asked almost in a ghost of a whisper, "I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you. I love you so much. Don't ever leave me, okay? I need you."

"I won't leave you," Spencer agreed earnestly, pecking his cheek, "I love you. I'm glad you're here."

"Like I would be anywhere but here holding you? Not a chance."

"Hey," Spencer remembered, reaching for something under her pillow. Holding out her hand to him, she released her fist, revealing a shining object.

"Spencer," Toby gasped, his eyes falling on the ring he'd given to her when they had exchanged their wedding vows, "I can't believe it."

"This isn't just some old ring, Toby. It means everything to me. I couldn't let it get away."

So Toby held her even closer, cradling her head as he placed the ring back on her finger. "_You_ mean everything to me."

* * *

**Okay. I don't know WHAT the deal was, but my account on here was being goofy and refusing to let me post. So, here is to hoping it works now...if not, I suppose you'll fill me in, right? Crossing my fingers. I apologize, but this was out of my hands :(**

**I know she has yet to tell Toby, but you're just going to have to tune in for the next chapter now, aren't you? :) Toby has to put back the pieces of he and Spencer's home, but that also means piecing Spencer back together. How will that go? Will Spencer be able to return home or will it be too much for her? What about this other jerkface? Will he be caught? Don't touch that dial, folks.**

**I thank you all times a million and seven! Sending my love. Those on the East coast, I pray you are safe! xoxo.**

**Also, happy late birthday to Amelia! **


	14. The Anatomy of Spencercasm

**Guess who's back? Back again? Bree is back, tell a friend! Guess who's back, guess who's back...dun dun dun! Okay. Now that I've just had a little Slim Shady moment...hello! I apologize with virtual flowers for my absence. As I've explained, classes are at an all time level of OVERWHELMING right now, so it's not been easy. I also wanted to do right by this chapter, and not just toss it out there before it was marinated. Ya feel me? *crickets* No? Oh. Okay. Well. **

**Here is the chapter you've so patiently been waiting for! I'd like to confiscate all pitchforks prior to entry...thank you. I'd also like to thank you all, for simply reading this and giving me your support, love, and feedback. I love your reviews, so please do keep them coming! I'd especially like to get some after this chapter! ;) **

**Chapter 14: The Anatomy of Spencercasm**

* * *

_According to Psychologist Abraham Maslow - one of the greats in psychology- humans have five basic needs. _

_There's our physiological needs: air, food, H20, sleep, excretion, shelter, and sex. These are the basics. The must haves. _

_These are what make us. _

_Next up on this hierarchy of human needs is the need for safety. As humans, we need to feel a sense of security for our bodies, our resources, our loved ones, our careers, and our property. _

_This of course, is followed by the need to be loved and to feel as though we belong somewhere, esteem, and finally self-actualization. _

_But the need for safety? The need to feel safe not only with people, but with yourself? With your surroundings? _

_These needs are the ones that break us._

_Our personal safety, for our health and well-being, physically, emotionally, socially...is it any wonder it comes second to the very basic needs for human survival? Because without the feeling of safety in any form, that's all we're doing; surviving. If we want to live, if we want to breathe the air that we need, to bathe in the water - not just quench our thirst, to dream, to make love...to feel untouchable in that roof over your head? ...we need safety. It's an absolute necessity. _

_So what happens when it goes above the physiological step and ladders up to safety? What happens when that ladder comes tumbling down? _

_Safety means different things for different people._

_For some, it might mean the ability to get on stage with lights beating down in front of a roaring, live audience that's nearly over fire-code capacity._

_Or others, safety might simply signify that feeling of warmth in someone's arms; whether you can let your guard down enough to fall asleep. _

_For Spencer, safety was what she used to feel...safety was the rug she greeted her feet with every morning that was suddenly pulled out from underneath her; not just causing her to fall to the floor, but down, down, down, plummeting into a dark dungeon of insecurity; one she didn't see a way out of anytime soon. _

"It's been a week. In that week, we've stepped forward, and we've stumbled backwards. You have made remarkable progress physically, but my concern is for your emotional state. You're going home today, you haven't been home since that night. Describe to me how you're feeling. What are your current thoughts? What are your concerns?"

Rattling her shin so that her entire body vibrated, Spencer blew hot air out through her flaring nostrils, lifting her eyes up indiscreetly to the fork and spoon clock hanging across the dark blue wall in front.

The woman with the Versace bifocals perched along her celestial nose smoothed out her cirtrine silk top and Nine West geometric print skirt, her deep cherry bob bouncing as she shook her head at her patient. Lowering her pen, the woman - whose name tag on her desk read Dr. Claudia Carr- carefully cupped the rims of her glasses, pulling them down and tucking them into her hands.

"You know, Spencer, staring at that clock isn't going to make time pass any faster. You're all mine for the next twenty three minutes."

Spencer hiked up her sleeve, remembering the clock that was always attached to her wrist.

But Dr. Carr knew what tricks Spencer had up her sleeve.

"Does your watch hold any answers for me? Maybe you'd like to try the bottom of your shoe next, hmm? Spencer, this isn't a middle school examination where you're not closely monitored for cheating, and you're not going to be supplied with a cheat sheet. The only person that can answer these questions is you, and unfortunately for both of us, until we move forward, we'll just be continuing these sessions. And I happen to know, based on your body language, that would would prefer we wrap things up, wouldn't you?"

Scoffing, Spencer folded her arms over, locking them against her chest. "Technically, Claudia-"

"Dr. Carr."

"Whatever...my insurance plan only covers two more sessions following my dismissal in twenty TWO minutes, so I really don't think it makes a difference, do you?"

Dr. Carr exhaled sharply, closing her notebook and dropping it and her pen next to her on the love-seat her rear end was renting, "Spencer -"

"Mrs. Cavanaugh." Spencer corrected shortly.

"Mrs. Cavanaugh, I'm going to simply remind you once again that this is a safe space. Anything you repeat to me, anything your entrust in me, all of your statements are completely confidential, with the exception of those that I believe represent potential self harm or harm to others - neither of which I have seen from you. You've been through one hell of an ordeal. But if you want to stop living out of a motel room you and your husband lack the finances for, then you must open up to me! I'm only here to help you. I'm not here to judge you...I am not above you. I am putting away my notes, and from this point on, I ask that you speak to me as your confidant. I don't intend on pressuring you, but as you have so obviously noted several times since you've sat down with me, the clock is ticking! Your experience with post-traumatic stress can be minimized if only you open up! I am here to help you. I want to help you!"

"No," Spencer argued, "You just want your big fat paycheck!"

Polishing her front teeth with her tongue, Dr. Carr looked like she was restraining hiccups. She clasped her hands together, bouncing them on her crossed legs, "I'll get my pay regardless of the progress we make. But how does that help you?"

Spencer felt like she was a puppy being disciplined with a tapping foot and a pointing finger that lead to the doghouse. Bowing her head in disappointment, she spoke softly. "My inability to open up to you - to anyone- originates from past experiences of betrayal. I had a counselor once, and she seemed great...but she failed to protect me. You say that this is a safe space, but Dr. Carr, I thought my house was a safe space! What does that even mean anymore? Safety? To feel safe? To come home after a long day, walk through the front door and to feel like you can let down every wall you've ever built up with bricks and mortar, only to find that the place you thought was the safest, isn't really safe at all? That it's just as vulnerable and susceptible to being broken into as your heart?

How do I feel? I feel like the one place I had, the one place I could go to in order to escape all the pressures of the outside world, where I could lock myself up with a book in front of the fireplace, or where I could sleep with my back to the door, or raise a family someday is gone. I feel like...I feel..."

Spencer trailed off, attempting to organize her thoughts into words.

Finally settling on a recollection of something from her childhood, she looked up from the abstract rug near the toes of her caramel boots.

"When I was little, my mother and I used to take bi-weekly to the Latimour Library. She used to tell me that it had been in Rosewood since this town was founded, that it wasn't just a piece of history, but an important organ to the body of Rosewood. It was my favorite place to go as a child, and even when my mom got buried neck deep in cases, I'd go up there by myself every Saturday morning. Anyways, one day after school I came by to pick up some books for a project, but the doors weren't open. There weren't any people inside. There was a crowd of people outside, and as I turned around, I noticed a crane truck. Despite my protests, they tore that building down. Years and years of something so rare, so beautiful, torn down, just like that. It's amazing how it only takes a minute to destroy something. I couldn't believe anyone could tear something down with such ease, without so much as a look back at the devastation caused in their trail...but they did. That's how I feel. I'm the library. I was standing there, and then suddenly I wasn't. I feel like those...those...monsters stormed through my house and pushed me aside like they were a tornado and I was just a house in their path. I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong! I was just...there. And now no matter how much relief and aid pours in, that house is gone. It's gone. I don't feel safe. I wasn't just robbed of my personal belongings, Dr. Carr, I was robbed of my sense of security. I feel angry at the perpetrators. I feel violated. I feel scared. I feel like every ounce of security I had, the foundation of my sense of peace, has been taken away from me. That's how I feel. So yes, I'm concerned. I'm concerned that I will never be able to set foot in that house again. I'm concerned that those bastards are still out there, that they're going to come back for me...maybe even my baby. I don't know. That's how I feel. Are you satisfied now? Did I fill your quota for the day?"

Spencer could easily be likened to steam rising off of the roads after rainfall at this moment, all of that anger and raw emotion that she'd been keeping locked up inside that last week was at last rising out of her. Her chest rose and fell like she'd just participated in a brisk jog, her throat dryer than ever.

Dr. Carr stood up, retreating to her small refrigerator in the corner near her desk, providing Spencer with a cool bottle of water.

"Mrs. Cavanaugh, I do believe you've just made a significant amount of progress right there. That's more than you've said to me in our last four sessions. All of those feelings are typical of someone who has undergone such an intense experience. That's normal. Those scoundrels didn't just break into your home, they broke into so much more. It's okay to feel violated, it's okay to feel anger. These complex emotions are heavy, but you cannot let them win. You can feel them, I encourage you to feel them, in fact, I'd be more concerned if you didn't, but don't let them win. Don't let these crooks steal your life, too. Take one day at a time. You're not ready to go home quite yet, but will you ever be? Take small steps. It's my understanding you've got quite the crowd of supporters behind them, so let them be there for you! Do not shut them out!"

Sighing, Dr. Carr reached over and placed a hand on Spencer's knee in support. "That foundation is still there. That feeling of safety isn't a place, Spencer. Look down deeper into this well of emotions. What do you see?"

As if her therapist was a pesky mosquito, sucking the life out of her day, Spencer batted at the woman's friendly hand, wincing. It hadn't been a sudden movement, but any movement right now generated towards her was causing her extreme discomfort. She hoped she wouldn't be like this forever...it would be nice to accept a hug from someone without being afraid, or to hear a door shut and not go back into a flashback. She knew Dr. Carr meant well in the gesture, so Spencer didn't wiggle completely away.

Massaging her temple, Spencer bit her lip to keep from crying. "You're not Rafiki and I'm not Simba. I'm not going to look into a body of water and see a reflection of my father."

"That's not humor you're using, that's a defense mechanism so you don't have to confront your problems. One you do not need to use here."

"Thanks for the brief lesson in the _Anatomy of Sarcasm_."

"I'm going to make you go there, and you're not going to like it. I'm pushing you outside your level of comfort because that is the only way you can get through this, I'm not doing it to be cruel," Dr. Carr reminded gently, "I can sit here and play tennis with your sarcastic retorts all afternoon and while it is mildly entertaining for me, it does nothing for you."

Spencer remained silent.

Dr. Carr pushed forward, though her tone was that of someone speaking to a newborn, careful. "Do you feel you've made any progress?"

"Sure."

"Have you told your husband about your pregnancy yet?"

"He's still in the dark."

"Spencer!"

"It's Mrs. Cavanaugh!" Spencer cried, "We are not buddy-buddy and we are not on a first name basis!"

The ticking of the clock echoed off the walls. Spencer's phone chimed from her purse at her ankles, even though the sign on the door said that telephones past this point were strictly prohibited. Dr. Carr decided not to acknowledge this, but rather to keep trying with her patient.

"Tell me about your husband."

Breathing out, Spencer twirled a strand of uncharacteristically frizzy hair. "What about him?''

"Let's pretend I've never had the privilege of meeting him. What's his name? What does he mean to you? How does he make you feel? Tell me anything."

The beating of Spencer's heart now matched the ticking of the clock, and she hoped it wasn't as loud. Swallowing, she gazed down at her left hand, her wedding ring aglow, "Toby..." she said lovingly, "Is...everything to me. He...he's everything. He works so hard to make sure we're well off, to make sure we keep up with the bills, to make sure I'm always taken care of...he works so many hours-"

Dr. Carr cut Spencer off, "Is that where he was that night? At work?"

The sparkle in Spencer's eye once again resigned, "Yes."

"Do you feel angry with him for not being at home when this happened?"

"I don't harbor any anger towards my husband for doing what he has to do to provide for us! I...I-"

One look at the clock was all it took for Spencer to lose focus. Jumping up, she gathered her belongings, yanking on the doorknob, "Times up!"

Groaning as Spencer stormed out of her office, Dr. Carr gradually stood up as well, following the brunette down the hall to the lobby, where Toby was anxiously waiting with a magazine in hand. Interrupting the couple, Dr. Carr looked Toby square in the eye.

"I have a proposition to make, one I know your wife won't approve of...but I think it is the best option right now. I'd like to stop by your house tomorrow morning...just to see how she's doing. Perhaps a change in scenery will increase the effectiveness of these sessions? What time should I come by?"

Toby blinked a few times, "Well uh...I go back to work tomorrow," he looked down at Spencer to calm her, "But only for a few short hours! Your mother is set to arrive to stay for a few days around 4..." he looked back at Dr. Carr, "I think maybe around eleven would be just fine."

Spencer's nails dug into Toby's forearm, but he kept his lips pressed tightly together. She could hate him now, but she'd thank him later. She needed this.

Dr. Carr smiled triumphantly at Spencer as she trailed back to her office, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Looking forward to it."

Though he was afraid to meet his wife's disapproving eyes, Toby did, shrugging his shoulders at her.

Extending his hand, he waited for Spencer to take it so he could escort them out to his truck, though Spencer put up a fight, refusing to touch him. Toby was supposed to be protecting her, not adding to her stress by allowing her pesky therapist over for lunch!

When Toby raised a brow, Spencer rolled her eyes, surrendering. Plunging her hand into his, she permitted him to lead them out, not really saying anything. Her stomach grumbled as she hopped into the passenger seat, and she looked over at Toby with big eyes.

Toby chuckled, wrapping his arm around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Let's make a pit stop for dinner, shall we?"

Nodding, Spencer leaned her head into his shoulder, watching as buildings passed by.

It was going to be a long night.

Her reoccurring nightmares over the fact that one of these criminals was still at large were terrible, but that was just while they were sleeping at a motel...she didn't want to know what they'd be like once they arrived home. As of right now, no night light could save her now.

**_Grrr, I know! I'm frustrated with Spencer's inability to just fess up to Toby too, but I assure you, when that time comes *coughwhichisREALLYsooncough* , it will have been worth that wait! I'm not going to be like Marlene and give you that overused line that I'm sure just make you all roll your eyes as much as it irks me too, about "wait for it, wait for it" but...you know...;) _**

**_Will Spencer be able to stay in the house? For how long? Do you think she'll last a night with Toby by her side?_**

**_What about those crooks? Will the missing one EVER get turned in? _**

**_The answers you will find, if you stay tuned. _**

**_Xoxo; VIVA LA SPOBY. _**


	15. The Little Engine That Could

**_Wow! I am taken aback by the overwhelming amount of love and wishes to keep chugging along with this story. While 99.8% of you are understanding that I am taking a full loud this semester (18 credits, plus working) there are still a select few who do not seem to get that it is difficult to juggle things when life gets hectic and my intention is never to make you guys wait...life just happens. I am 100% dedicated to this story and understand your frustrations with the intervals in between updates; but I also am a perfectionist. I would not post a chapter without making sure it's my best (or as close as can be when I'm fatigued lol). Thanks for your feedback and letting me know you're still out there! You are all superstars. Virtual cookies on me! Thanks for hanging in there. I know the more "depressing" chapters are not your favorite (mine either), but they ARE necessary. I know there are stories out there where Spoby is happy all the time, but I'm just trying to convey them as realistically as possibly. (Wait: you mean spoby is a fictional couple?!) Also, it sounds like this is busy season for most of you too, and I extend my warm wishes of luck for you! _**

**_This story will continue :)_**

**_I'd really like to thank - in addition to each and every one of you - Amelia. I'm not too familiar with how therapy works, but this awesome gal provided me with some light and I do so appreciate it. She also took the time to read over this chapter before I posted it. Giving her major props for being so sweet. _**

**_Remember when Annie said "the sun will come out tomorrow?" It's tomorrow. ;) _**

**_ Chapter 15: The Little Engine That Could_**

* * *

"Are you sure you have to go into work today?"

Toby fiddled around with the zip of his jacket, throwing an arm around the headrest of the passenger seat, his fingers stimulating Spencer's scalp.

"Spencer, my boss has been beyond understanding due to the circumstances, but the big boss on campus - his boss- isn't like that. They need me today. I'm sorry."

Spencer's eyelashes began working like wings of a butterfly, losing a battle with tears, "But I need you too, especially today. I can't be in this house. It's too much, Toby."

It was true. Returning to the house the day before had been overwhelming for Spencer. She likened it to being on an out of control carousel at a carnival and not being able to get off. She lasted five whole hours before she begged Toby to take her back to the hotel. Toby was adamant, but seeing Spencer break down and get sick to her stomach, what was he supposed to do? So, they'd checked back into the hotel, despite the nagging on Toby's shoulders about financial responsibilities and all the bills that would be accumulating up after Spencer's hospital stay and therapist visits (insurance only covered so much).

Swinging the door open, Toby moved to get out, hastily walking around to the passenger side to retrieve Spencer.

"Spencer," he began gently, making a move to tug on the door.

Spencer had other plans. With the quick shift of a finger, she locked the truck, sinking back into her seat like it was a mattress of solitude. Her bottom lip started quivering at the thought of being alone in this house.

"Spencer!" Toby tried again, letting his head roll downwards as he braced his hands on each side of the door, "I've got to get to work. I'm going to be late! I don't know how tolerant the company will be."

"You can't leave!"

"I have to, baby. I don't have much of a choice here."

"We always have a choice, Toby."

Toby sighed, knocking against the window, "Not today. Come on, Spencer. Now is not the time for games! Dr. Carr will be arriving any second now, and then your mother will be here to relieve her of her duties-"

Kicking her feet up on the dashboard, Spencer glared at her husband. "Relieve? Glad I'm such a hassle. Thanks, Toby. I'm not an egg in a team building egg and spoon race. You can't just pass the responsibility of my delicate body over to the next person. Besides, I'm not an egg. I'm not going to break."

"Are you sure about that? Right now, you're an egg, Spencer. You're not going to break, because you already have. We're all just worried about you. You're not a hassle. I didn't mean it like that, you know I didn't mean it like that."

Finding an alternative method to rounding up the herd of sheep that was all of Spencer's insecurities, Toby substituted his frustrated squint into a reassuring smile.

"I'll walk in with you. I'll hold you until Dr. Carr gets here. Would that be any better?"

"Fine," Spencer agreed, pushing open the door, "I guess I can bargain. I don't want you to get fired so we lose our income. I just...I don't know if I'm ready for this."

Always understanding, Toby offered her his hand, linking their fingers together as he guided them up the walkway to their front door. Turning to Spencer for a quick look of moral support, he fished his house keys out from his back pocket and proceeded to enter the abandoned adobe. The way the sunlight filtered in like something in an old film made Spencer shiver, and she clung to Toby's arm with both hands, her face smashed against his shirt as if it would shield her from any painful memories. The couple moved slowly into the foyer, down the hallway to settle in the living room. Having forgotten to shut the door, the wind did if for them, causing Spencer to jump in instinctive panic.

She was overly sensitive to sounds now, and that door slamming may as well have been a gunshot. Whimpering, she threw herself further into Toby, clinging to him for dear life, "I can't, I can't!"

The knots in the back of Spencer's back felt like they were doubled. She could feel her body breaking out into a sweat, her breathing pattern altering.

"Easy, baby. I've got you. That was just the door...the wind must have caught it. It's been fixing to storm all morning, I'm surprised the sun is still out."

There was another sudden noise, and it interrupted the fear bubbling inside Spencer over a storm brewing; especially if it would resemble one that had happened the night of the burglary and assault. Only this time it wasn't the wind. It was the shutting of Dr. Carr's car door, her heels clicking along the porch. A short, sharp knock followed, and Toby dismounted himself from Spencer to answer it.

Spencer - though standing not even a foot away - could hear Toby politely greet the middle aged woman, but their words were muffled from the increased blood flow through her ears. It felt like someone had shoved corks in them, everything was so filtered.

Only when Dr. Carr arched a tattooed eyebrow did Spencer finally regain focus.

"I said, hello, Spencer. How are you this morning?"

Averting her eyes from Dr. Carr to Toby, she silently begged her husband not to abandon her now. She felt like a child on their first day of Kindergarten, not wanting their parents to leave, even though it's pretty much guaranteed they always return for their child. He'd only be gone for a few hours, he had promised. Still, Toby was her rock. She wasn't sure how she'd get through those few hours without him by her side, calming her with his affectionate voice and those soft baby blues.

Toby pushed out some air from his chest, giving Dr. Carr a wish of luck. He left a light kiss on Spencer's cheek before heading out of the door, throwing her one last glance around the shoulder before securing the door behind him. Spencer remained fastened to her spot until she couldn't hear the chugging of Toby's engine anymore.

Dr. Carr looked around, motioning to the recliner and the L-shaped couch in the living room, "Shall we sit in here? I think it's best we cover some bases before we commence this home session. May I have a seat?"

Spencer nodded.

Seeing that Spencer refused to take the initiative to sit down herself, Dr. Carr folded her hands together on her knees.

"Would you prefer to stand, then? Alright. It seems I may have slightly over stepped my boundaries yesterday by inviting myself over to your house. For that, I deeply apologize. But for many reasons - depression, several phobias, hoarding and obsessive-compulsive issues, home therapy sessions aren't too uncommon nowadays. Sometimes it is at the benefit for the client to remain at home for the purpose of feeling more at ease. It's more of a convenience, we find. Furthermore, it provides me with the chance to see you on your home turf. It will hopefully lead me to grasping a better understanding of who you are and what you're experiencing day-to-day. I know you don't feel safe here, Mrs. Cavanaugh, but my goal is to alleviate that feeling, hopefully by the end of our session today, whenever that may be.

However, it is essential to set up a few pre-session boundaries. I want to make it clear to you that I am not a guest in this house. We must still keep our traditional roles as client and therapist. We've already taken steps in shrinking any potential distractions; though at some point, you might feel it is beneficial to have your husband present as you graduate. Should your mother arrive prior to the wrap up of this session, we will simply stop. Your privacy is of the utmost importance and in no way will I breach that policy. Just because we are out of office, does not mean the practices are, too. Do you have any questions for me? Any concerns?"

Shaking her head, Spencer rocked on her heels awkwardly.

"Very well. I suppose I'll start by asking how your overnight stay went. How did it go?"

Ashamed in her failure to stay the night before, Spencer played with the ends of her side-swept-ponytail. "It...didn't. I...it was too much for me."

Dr. Carr responded with a bob of the head, her cheeks sucking inward.

"Prior to having the extreme rare honor of flying in a space shuttle, astronauts to be go through training. The KC-135, but more commonly dubbed as the Vomit Comet seems to be one of particular fame. The weightlessness of it produces nausea and often vomiting ensues in about 2 out of 3 trainees. It sounds dreadful, but many who go through it will tell you those 25 seconds of feeling your stomach turn inside out is worth it in the end. Everything these men and women go through as preparation to learn how to control their shuttle is astonishing! So now I'm going to ask you to experience that nausea, that uncomfortable feeling...the pain you'll feel as I ask you to tap into those raw emotions will be brutal, and it will be more than just a few seconds. But this will only feel like a few seconds after you learn how to conquer everything you've been through, Mrs. Cavanaugh. That feeling of control you'll have over your own shuttle - your life- will be nothing in comparison. We are going to get you there."

Standing, Dr. Carr looked Spencer square in the eye. "I'm not going to ask you to put on a space suit...but I am going to ask that you put your best foot forward and give this a try."

"Well, I'd like to see the moon sometime...and I can't really see it that well from down here with all the smog. Alright. I'll try. But I make no guarantees I won't start hurling," Spencer decided.

"Steer clear of my boots and we'll be just fine, dear."

"So where do we start?"

"We start," Dr. Carr announced, "By going through each room in this beautiful house you have here. I'd like you to share with me the first memory that comes to mind as we enter each one. We'll go upstairs last. Let's begin."

* * *

Two hours. a barf bucket, a lunch break - for Spencer and the baby's sake- and gallons of tears later, Spencer and Dr. Carr had gone through every single section of the Cavanaugh home. Spencer shared memories with Dr. Carr, some good, some bad, mostly good ones. Their arrival upstairs changed in direction, and Spencer began experiencing the expected anxiety. Still, Dr. Carr helped push her forward, firmly but gently. Therapist and patient managed to save the master bedroom for last- where Spencer had experienced the most significant trauma.

While Spencer had done most of the talking- though choked and slow in speed at first- it was now Dr. Carr's turn.

The two sat cross legged on the foot of the bed, Spencer's hand in Dr. Carr's, clutching to the tissue in her other hand. Her nose was damp and cold, her eyes red around the rims and at the corners. Surprisingly enough, Spencer had been the one to initiate this move, feeling more comfortable with Dr. Carr's presence now that she had opened up to so many intimate memories and stories- some she hadn't even shared with the girls.

They had both shared a laugh over Spencer's discovery of pregnancy story downstairs, and giggled over Toby's not-so-secret stash of processed goods in his man-cave.

The band-aid was peeling off now. It couldn't just be peeled away quickly. The adhesive had to wear off with time and water. With patience. With healing.

There was still an open wound very much present in Spencer's heart, but she felt like it was starting to scab over, so having that band-aid removed felt like a breath of fresh air.

Currently, Spencer was nodding along to Dr. Carr's words, adding in a statement.

"Yeah, Toby he...he is my rock."

"Spencer," Dr. Carr began, "He's your rock? Let's do a quick word association. What do you think of when you hear the word rock? Besides Toby."

Pondering for a moment, Spencer twisted her mouth to the side like it was a sack of bread being secured by a twisty-tie. "A foundation."

"A foundation. Do you remember that story you told me the other day? The one about the library you loved so much? The one that the city demolished? It devastated you, didn't it? But do you recall looking at what was left after they knocked out all of the walls? Did they have to do any digging?"

A light began flickering in Spencer's mind. "I-I...there was still the foundation of the building, I guess. They had to use additional machinery to remove it and get it all dug up...why?"

"So in essence, that foundation was still there. Would you agree?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. You said you felt like that library when those two men came in through here. They tore you down, they demolished your sense of security. They knocked down those walls. You felt vulnerable...you still feel vulnerable. I want you to think for a moment. I want you to think about foundation. Do you think you still have that?"

Her lips peeling apart, eyes as big as the clock on the wall above, Spencer threw a hand to her mouth. Her opposite hand left Dr. Carr's warm one to trace her stomach. Looking down at her stomach, she hitched her teeth into her inner lip, her chin wrinkling. The tears were coming back now.

"Oh my God...yes. Yes! It's still here. It's been here. It's..." she looked to Dr. Carr who smiled beside her, reaching for her hand again, "I think you just made a break through. I can practically feel the light bulb being activated in my head. Thank you."

"Well, I think this concludes our session for the day. You seem satisfied."

"I am...I mean...partially...I'll get there. I will get there, won't I?"

As the two trailed down the hallway and steps to the front door, Dr. Carr buttoned her overcoat, "You're already getting there. Baby steps, Mrs. Cavanaugh..."

"Spencer."

They exchanged smiles as Spencer extended her hand forward for a shake.

"Spencer. It's a process. But you've just made excellent headway today. It's 2 o'clock...will you manage for a few hours?"

Nodding quickly, Spencer opened the door for the woman, "Guess I'll find out. I'd just feel better if that guy was behind bars with his partner in crime right now."

Opening her umbrella, Dr. Carr squeezed Spencer's hand, "He will. Power of positive thought, Spencer. He will be caught!"

"I hope sooner rather than later," Spencer replied softly, waving to Dr. Carr as she traveled down the path to her van, "Goodbye, Dr. Carr."

Once the front door was shut and Dr. Carr had officially departed, Spencer was on her own now.

Placing a hand back over her still flat stomach, Spencer let oxygen fill her lungs, "Looks like it's just you and me now, fetus."

* * *

Heavy with uncertainty for his wife's state after being away for a few hours, Toby took his time pulling into the driveway.

It was odd, he thought, that aside from Spencer's, there were no cars joining hers. He thought her mother would be here by now.

Growing worried, Toby slammed his door, quickening his pace. He fumbled with the keys for the front door, calling out as not to startle his wife as he entered.

"Spencer? Spencer, are you here? Spencer!"

The lights were out, and the house was silent, aside from the light drizzle on the roof.

"Oh God," he cried, throwing down his toolbox and coat, not even bothering with his muddy work boots, "Spencer! Spencer? I should have never left you alone and I'm so sorry-"

His words came to a complete stop as he took in the sight of their kitchen. Illuminated with candles scattered about the counters and the kitchen table, Toby wasn't sure what was going on. Spencer was still nowhere to be found, but he was too distracted by the dinner she had out. Had she really cooked? Successfully? Did he miss something? Where was Mrs. Hastings? Where was Spencer?

**Pssst. Hey, you! Yeah, you with the face and the eyes and the computer/phone! There's a bonus chapter, too...hit that little next button ;) Happy Turkey Day, gobble gobble! **


	16. What's in the Oven?

**_Two chapters back to back? Consider this my virtual batch of cookies in thanks. :) I love you all like Ken loves his Barbie doll. Only...not in that way...because...great. I just made myself sound creepy, didn't I? This is awkward. Um..._  
**

**Chapter 16: What's in the Oven?**

**(pun totally intended hehehe)**

* * *

"Spencer?" Toby called again, "Please tell me you're here?"

There were not three sets of cups, plates and forks set out at the table, but two. Toby didn't know what was going on right now, but he intended on getting to the bottom of it!

Shuffling into the kitchen with a bit of a pep to her step- this was new- Spencer smiled nervously at her husband, "Oh, you're home. Hi."

"Hi?" Toby replied suspiciously, "What's going on? Where is your mother? I thought she was supposed to be here over an hour ago? I didn't see her car out front...did she run to the store or something?"

Checking the timer on the microwave, Spencer pulled out a chair for Toby, ushering him to sit. "Nooooo," she dragged out, plopping down in his lap, her arms around his neck, "I sent her packing as soon as she got here."

"Why?"

"Because my therapy session went much better than I saw in the forecast and she'd just drive me further into insanity by being here. I told her to go visit Melissa and Taylor instead. They'll be delighted to have her company. You know how my sister and mom get along. How was work?"

Sliding his hand to rest on Spencer's face, Toby searched her eyes, " It was fine. I missed you. I'd still prefer you have someone here with you when I can't be. I know you don't feel safe in this home..."

Silencing her husband with a finger to his sweet lips, Spencer propped her forehead against his. "I don't feel safe. I don't think I will until those bastards get a sentence, drop their soap bars, and experience a wicked case of karma in the showers. I won't feel completely safe for awhile. But I had a revelation today with Dr. Carr."

"Oh you did? What did you talk about?"

"Hmm...libraries, walls, foundations..."

Toby looked lost, and Spencer fought back the urge to pat his head, chuckling lightly.

"Toby...that night, so much was destroyed. Not just physical property...but my sense of security. My feeling of safety. It was like everything just came crashing down. You know that scene in the Titanic where water starts breaking through the walls after the ice-berg punctured through like a can opener? It opened a can of devastation. People started to drown. The ship started going down. Things looked so hopeless despite how many thought foolishly this dream ship was unsinkable. I feel like...even though I'm broken...even though my walls of steel were punctured by an unforeseen ice-berg...two ice-bergs...I feel like even if I start to sink, I'll be okay. I'll be one of those passengers that gets lucky. That even if I end up in the Atlantic Ocean at an ungodly hour kicking and screaming as I fight for my life as people pull and tug around me and my body temperature drops alarmingly...I feel like I still have a foundation. Even if that happens, I still have you. Sink or float, I still have you.

Safety to me isn't a feeling, Toby. It's not a house with an alarm system or ferocious canines. It's not a seat belt or a restraint on a roller-coaster. It's not this house. It's you. You are my safe place to land. In the wake of everything, I seemed to have forgotten that I find solitude in being with you. This house isn't my home. You are. You are my rock. You are my foundation. You are safety. You are my life-jacket keeping me afloat. I know it's such a strung out process, but I know I'll be okay. I know I'll be okay because I have you."

Completely touched by Spencer's emotional enlightenment, Toby cradled her face in his gigantic hands, smoothing away some hair from her cheeks.

"Spencer," he choked, "You're my home, too. You will be okay, because I know you. You are one hell of a fighter. You don't have it in you to give up. I will do anything I can to help you through this. I'll even shove you in my tool box and take you to work with me, if that's what it takes."

Giggling, Spencer rubbed the area of his chest below each shoulder, "I love you."

His arms were surrounding her small frame as the two embraced, Toby placing his chin on her shoulder, rocking them, "I love you, too."

"So," Toby inquired into her hair, "What's in the oven?"

Oh, if only he knew. If only he really, really knew. He'd find out soon enough though. That was in the cards for tonight, following their breakfast for dinner.

"Nothing fancy. It's just cinnamon buns. I know they're your favorite."

"Aw, thank you! That's so thoughtful. You didn't have to go to the trouble of fixing me anything. It's your first night back, I should be catering to you."

Putting on oven mittens to avoid being scalded by the heat of the pan, Spencer opened the oven door. An immediate wave of heat filled the kitchen like a sauna. Spencer could practically feel her hair singing, her eyes burning a bit as she bent over to gather the pan into her hands. Shutting the door with her foot, she set their meal down on the center of the table, a pot holder beneath as to save their table from damage.

"I didn't go to any trouble. Pillsbury did."

Coating their dinner with frosting, Spencer licked her fingers, "Bon appetite, Mr. Cavanaugh. Your gourmet meal is served. I hope you enjoy your buns in the oven."

Toby wasn't sure why Spencer was winking at him, but he associated her odd behavior and jiggling of her legs under the table with everything she'd been through those last few days.

Diving in, Toby chowed down an impressive four cinnamon rolls, Spencer having two. It was more than she'd usually eat. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy cinnamon buns, it was just that she was always a light eater; aside from those monthly, hellish visits from mother nature. It was more than Toby had seen her eat in days, she had been pecking at her food like a bird. He was pretty satisfied with her efforts.

Reaching out to remove her milk mustache with his calloused thumb, Toby smiled thankfully at his lady, "That was delicious. Should I thank you or that little dough boy on the packaging?"

"Well, you have yet to kiss me hello..."

She didn't have to say anymore. Toby happily provided her with a gentle but loving kiss on her awaiting lips, his hand resting on her knee as they engaged in yet another emotionally intense conveying of feelings through a never breaking hold of eye contact.

"Toby," Spencer rasped anxiously, "I have something else for you..."

Pulling something out from under the table, Spencer slid the surprise item across the table, biting her lip to calm her nerves.

Toby looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"What's...what's this?" he wheezed.

"Positive proof that in a few months you're going to be the best daddy around."

Now everything started making sense. Spencer's mood swings, even prior to her attack. Her constant trips to the bathroom. Her change in appetite. The twelve hour naps she had started taking before their house had been broken into. He couldn't believe it! Even as the fertilized stick of authentication stared up at him waiting for a reaction, he still couldn't believe this was happening.

First, he felt shocked.

Then he felt nervous.

This was followed closely by a streak of panic over the costs that come with having a bundle of joy, not to mention the said sleep deprivation and restraints it could put on marriages, especially for newlyweds. He and Spencer hadn't been married that long. Sure, he wanted kids. Hell, he wanted an entire house of them, he already day-dreamed of building bunk beds so they could fit more into their house. But he hadn't been expecting this to happen this soon. He thought they'd start trying in a few years, once Spencer finished classes, once she had a stable job. Once he got a promotion or something!

All of these thoughts and emotions invaded him entirely, so much so that Spencer was beginning to worry.

By the time Toby dared to meet her eyes, she was crying.

"Oh Spencer," he breathed shakily, "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer..."

He was sure that it took a great deal of courage for Spencer to fess up to him, and here he was blowing it. Putting his chair in reverse, he reached out for her, signaling for her to join him. Spencer hesitated, sniveling at this point, making tiny whimpers as she let Toby pull her down into him.

The moment they entwined, Toby broke down. He held Spencer close to him like a shirt, cradling her head preciously.

As nervous as he was about being a father at such a young age, before they had planned, he couldn't deny he was ecstatic right now too. He didn't think he'd have this moment for a long time. Spencer was carrying the most precious thing in the world now; a little piece of both of them.

"I'm going to be a Daddy?" he checked, just in case he'd been imagining this whole thing.

Laughing a little as she batted away her tears, Spencer confirmed his question, "Well, you're not going to be the mommy."

Maneuvering his arm to snake around her and grab the pregnancy test, Toby held it up, examining it very careful like he did with all of his floor plans at work. It was important to really check the floor plans before getting to work and building...and now that Toby had seen this test with his own eyes he was read to build that future with Spencer and their unborn child that he couldn't wait to hold.

"You're not mad?" Spencer asked.

"No, baby. I'm happy, I'm so happy...a little surprised by the timing of it all, but so happy..."

His words were cut short however, as he came to a realization. Spencer had been pregnant when she was attacked. She'd been carrying his child as she received blows to her body.

Fear washed over him, his eyes engaging in a duel with hers, "The baby...is it...is it okay?"

"I didn't see the ultrasound, I wanted to save the first one for a time we could see the baby together. But the doctors all assured me junior here is just fine."

"Thank God," Toby exhaled.

On one hand, Toby wanted to celebrate this life changing occasion. On the other, he was feeling for Spencer and everything she'd been forced to go through; knowing now that she was pregnant while being beaten up broke his heart even more so than he thought was possible. He ached to fix her. He ached to make it all go away. He ached to catch this bastard still on the lose. He ached to make Spencer feel 100% safe again. He ached to keep her safe. To keep their baby safe. He just wanted to take all of that pain away from her.

Spencer seemed to be mirroring his thoughts. They'd always been on the same page in the same chapter of the same book, but now that they were married, it seemed they shared the same wavelength.

No more words were spoken. There were no more giggles or smiles.

Waiting for Spencer's permission as he leaned in 90%, Toby kissed Spencer slowly. His lips were as gentle as rose pedals moving against hers. It wasn't just Toby that ached to drown out that pain now. Spencer was feeling it too. She needed this, and she needed it badly.

Their kiss grew into more, intense and filled with passion. She hadn't been touched in weeks it felt like, and that was through her own insecurities. Now she wanted Toby to touch her, she wanted to feel his skin against hers.

"Toby," she muttered against his mouth.

Pushing her hips into him, she nodded at him, fusing her fingers into his hair.

Toby nodded in return, patiently waiting as Spencer's fingers ejected from his locks to the collar of his shirt, tugging on the hem. He held up his arms as she stripped it from him, his eyes steady with hers.

His shirt touching the ground, Toby lifted Spencer, joining their lips in marriage. His kisses were still mindful, but a bit more urgent this time. He only stopped kissing her as he carried her up the steps, his lips transferring to her neck and jaw line as they ascended to their bedroom.

Spencer had his belt and jeans unfastened by the time they reached their door, and he stepped out of them before lowering her onto their bed. Stopping to tug off her sweat pants, Toby looked up at her to make sure she was still okay with this. The last thing he wanted was to push her level of comfort and make her feel vulnerable.

More than okay with what was unfolding, Spencer helped kick off her socks while Toby climbed up on the bed, his arms on either side of her as he tried his best to remain in a push up position in order to avoid crushing her - or the baby.

Spencer had been afraid of the way he'd look at her now that he knew she was pregnant, but Toby was still reflecting every single fiber of adoration he had for her as he removed her top.

Assisting in the process, Spencer sat up enough to discard of her sports bra, leaning back onto the pillows.

She saw Toby's eyes widen and realized he was zoning in on not her breasts, but her bruises. Scampering for a pillow or something, she settled with folding her arms, disconnecting their eyes to look down in shame.

His thumb was lifting her chin shortly after, forcing her to look at him again. The way he was looking at her right now was simply indescribable but Spencer felt safe, so she allowed him to remove her arms from her chest. It was any wonder how the inside of her lips hadn't deteriorated by now with all the biting and chewing she'd been doing out of nervous habit.

Toby began grazing her bruises cautiously, and Spencer let out a gasp as his lips took over for his gentle hands. Working downwards, Toby was sure to kiss every single bruise. He left nothing untouched in his journey southward. He made sure she was looking down at him as he left a circle of kisses around her navel in acknowledgement of the precious life beneath it. Spencer's heart was warmer than her cheeks now, her fingers rooting back into his hair as she smiled half nervously- half lovingly at this beautiful man he never failed to make her feel beautiful even as she was covered in bruises and cuts.

She felt him skim her panties and sighed in approval, raising her legs to help him cart off that last piece of clothing. She was already trembling before his kisses met with that sacred area, and her fingers dug into his hair roughly as her head fell back.

Bringing himself back up, Toby inched down his boxers, swimming in her eyes that were pouring up into his.

"I love you," he vowed.

As they celebrated the life they had created, Spencer had never felt so loved before.

Toby's endless vocal repetitions of his love for her lulled her to sleep.

For the first time since the break in plus assault, Spencer slept on through the night, safe in Toby's arms.

**Well...reactions? Was it worth the wait? **


	17. I Spy With My Little Eye: PT 1

**_Chapter 17: I Spy With My Little Eye: _**

**_Part 1_**

* * *

Spencer awoke to a wide variety of noises the next morning, stretching out her palms in front of her eyes to bat away the sunlight filtering in. Her impromptu sunglasses weren't doing the trick, so she opted for rolling over instead, her back to the window in rejection of the rays of happiness. It was too early for the sun to be beating on her bare back like this. Pushing air thought her nose, she reached out blindly to pat down Toby's side of the bed, hoping to come into contact with a limb.

She began massaging her temple when she realized he wasn't there. Wasn't today a Saturday? Toby didn't work on Saturdays, aside from a few rare occasions when his boss needed some extra bodies for seasonal assistance. Maybe Spencer had missed that piece of information, maybe Toby was at work. Pushing herself up so that her bottom was in the air, her arms in an arch as her dainty fingers threaded into the Wamsutta comfort pillow Toby had purchased for his sore neck, Spencer groaned. She let her fingers do the walking, pushing herself up. She nearly tripped on the war zone that had become their floor; an avalanche of decorative pillows and sheets tangled about the floor like growing vines. It had been so hot the night before that she and Toby had kicked off all the covers, but now she was one degree away from holding the same body temperature as Jack Frost.

Maneuvering her way through the tornado's aftermath, skillful as if she'd mastered sneaking past laser alarms in museums and banks, Spencer finally reached her destination; Toby's dresser. She pulled out Toby's Polo Ralph Lauren crew-neck, ragged, black and gray sweater, bringing it over her pink-pepper sports bra. Untucking her hair from the depths of this new-found comfort that went past her hips, Spencer inhaled Toby's trademark scent - the ingredients consisting of fresh soap, Polo Blue cologne, candy-canes, wood and leather. Raising the collar up past her mouth to blanket over her Roman nose, she asked her lungs to take in as much of this sweet aroma as possible. Deciding that her feet were feeling neglected of proper blood supply, Spencer shimmied into a pair of woolen knee-high socks. It was funny, in a way: women have more equally divided fat layers than men, providing them with somewhat of an internal insulation, like a furnace, but for some reason, Spencer could never stay warm. It was like her body had little vents that were closed off in certain areas; her fingers, nose and toes being the prime victims of neglect to warmth. Poor Toby was always having his bare back or ankles dug into as she attempted to use him as a human heating pad.

A hand over her almost discreet bump, Spencer hoped that the rubbing she was doing was enough friction to keep her fetus warm. She could just envision her baby ice-skating in her internal fluids as they froze over. Reminding herself with a mental sticky note to make an appointment for an ultrasound, Spencer decided to brave out the cold and wander the house. She was in desperate need of fuel...her stomach was becoming very vocal.

Still slightly groggy, she hadn't been expecting Toby to actually be home, but she could see him bent over at the top of the stairs. Her teeth planting into her lip, she gave boldness a try and pinched his butt, before matching his hunched over pose and hugging him from behind.

"Mm...this view would be far more enhanced if your shirt was mysteriously missing from your body, you know."

But it wasn't Toby that turned around to kiss her good morning, or to hug her back. Because Toby was coming out of the office, a box of tools in hand.

"I think we should have everything we need but I couldn't...Spencer! What are you doing?"

No. The person Spencer had designated as her life sized teddy bear was not her husband. It was Caleb.

Suddenly, Spencer could understand why Toby had dropped his box of precious tools and let them raft down the steps, his jaw falling after them. She could also understand why Caleb was backed against the wall, gripping the frames like he was bracing himself for 6.1 magnitude earthquake.

"Oh God," Spencer whimpered, "You're not my husband! Why are you not my husband? Why are you in my house, bowing to my wall?"

The fear that had risen through Caleb had just evacuated, his cocky smirk that he wore so well quickly rushing in to serve as the successor.

"Morning, pumpkin," he teased, "You're looking dashing this morning. Did you stick your head in an outlet and roll in wool?"

"I think you dropped your manners with Toby's tools. Oh wait, you've never had those. They must have missed you when puberty did a door-bell ditch," Spencer shot back.

Not able to resist, Caleb pulled the girl into his arms for a quick hug, "Welcome back, clever clogs."

"Caleb is helping me install a custom alarm system. You'll never have a sleepless night again in this house."

Scanning the boxes and equipment the boys had recruited, Spencer began chewing on her thumb, "I will when I find out how much this all is draining our bank account into the shitter. Toby, take it back! We can't afford these luxuries!"

Pulling her aside as Caleb worked on some wiring, Toby wrapped Spencer in his arms, gifting her nose with a kiss. "Spencer, I got a five finger discount."

"You're a crook now? Toby, I know we're desperate for some extra spending money but that-"

Toby's finger was pacifying her lips before she could finish voicing her reasonable concerns.

"Relax, baby. Let's just say Caleb owes me for a wild night in Vegas that includes llamas and chip and dales that we never speak of. Besides, a price cannot be made when it comes to your well being. I didn't think I'd be able to fetch fire-breathing dragons and an army of soldiers with grenades, and this seems like the next best thing. Think of this as the Taj Mahal of all home security systems."

Peering around at all of the contraptions floating around Caleb's ankles as he worked, Spencer gave in, pressing her body against Toby's in acceptance of a hug.

"If you say so."

Their hug was interrupted by her curiosity, however, of said Vegas gone wild trip.

Pulling back, Spencer poked his cheek, "Wait a minute! What is this undisclosed bachelor getaway? Where was I? How did I not know of this? How did Hanna not know of this? She has that boy on a very short leash! Why chip and dales? Oh my god, did I turn you gay?"

"What? No! You didn't turn over a new leaf! I still have loyalties to the same team I've always had and I won't be drafted anytime soon. Or ever! You and I were in a fight that weekend. Don't worry about it. We don't speak of it."

"Uh-huh. Still curious as to what this little trip entailed...especially the male strippers component. Was there a tiger in your bathroom too? Oh, let me guess! You guys kidnapped an innocent wailing child and named it Carlos!"

"That was a mix-up! And it was also Caleb's idea. Now, off to the kitchen you go. I managed to salvage some glazed donuts for you before Caleb turned into the Big Bad Wolf. Plus, the girls should be here any minute."

Spencer stood dumbfounded. Why were the girls coming over? Was she missing something?

Toby picked up on her clueless moment, providing her with a light-bulb overhead.

Dropping down to kiss her petite stomach through the material of his sweater, he chuckled. "I made arrangements with them last night to come pick you up for a day of...what did Hanna call it...oh, yeah...a day of retail therapy! They're taking you to Philly for the afternoon. Is this my sweater?"

Still not used to the serenading of Toby's plump lips to her gut, in spite of the showering those same soft lips had given that area the night before, Spencer nervously gnawed on the sleeve of Toby's sweater.

"Pretty soon, they'll be the only things that fit me. Get used to it. All the treasures in the world are worthless unless you have someone to share them with," she flirted, reaching for the railing of the stairs, "How soon will they be hijacking me?"

The doorbell rang, and in stormed Hanna, followed closely by Emily and Aria.

"Knock, knock, we rang, we're coming in, it's cold outside!" Hanna called, "My coffee was starting to freeze over."

She took one look at Spencer on the stairs and shrieked, "And so has hell! What happened to you? Did you stick your head in a toaster and try to emulate a Brillo pad?"

Caleb laughed from behind Spencer, "Dude! That's what I said,'' he looked down at Hanna, blowing her a kiss, "You make me so proud!"

With a roll of the eyes, Spencer made an escape for the kitchen, shoving half of a donut into her mouth, leaving it there as she escorted some coffee into a mug, "Hanna," she said, swallowing, "It's too early for this kind of sunny disposition. Try to tone it down a notch and keep it to a minimum, will you?"

"Ha-ha," Hanna said, sticking out her tongue, "Say goodbye to your husband, fetch me a brush, you're sitting in back with me so I can give you a quick make-over, and let's go!"

Aria and Emily exchanged giggles, shrugging at Spencer.

Always the thoughtful one, Emily stepped forward to give Spencer a supportive bear hug, "It's good to see you back to your normal witty self again, Spence. We've missed you."

"Yeah," Aria agreed, helping herself to a muffin, "Sorry for the lack of fore warning before we burst in to take you captive for the day. We just thought maybe some fresh air...smog...some manicures, and a trip with your favorite gal pals would do you some good."

The muffin brushing her teeth, Aria yelped when it was suddenly dislodged from her hands and went flying into the trash bin instead.

Glaring over at Hanna with a surprised expression, Aria put her hands on her hips, "What the hell, Hanna?"

"Do you know how many calories are in that thing?"

"Yeah, not as much as the air I'm now chomping on! I don't know if you've noticed in, oh I don't know, the decade you've known me, but I don't pack any evidence of my taste bud sins! I can bask in superficial factory food!"

Hanna cringed, motioning to Aria's behind, "No honey. You've got junk in the trunk now that you've hit that magical age of slower metabolism. If you keep eating that way, you're going to have a fanny pack like Spencer."

All eyes were on Hanna, burning her skull.

"Thanks, Han," Spencer growled, getting up.

"What?" Hanna asked, cluelessly.

Emily knocked Hanna upside the head, "Keep saying those things and you'll be _riding _in the trunk! You never insult a pregnant woman! That's like challenging Mike Tyson to a duel!"

"Why would I challenge the maker of the Tyson vacuum to a brawl?"

"That's **Dyson **, Hanna, not Tyson!" Aria laughed, "Maybe you should have a muffin. It can be a temporary mute button to avoid any insensitive jabs that might result in a trip to the Guillotine! Just a preventative measure for your own safety."

Meanwhile, Spencer was bidding her husband goodbye with a series of soft kisses to his stubble lines, not wanting to go out in the cold without her designated cuddle buddy. He wasn't just her source of heat, but her comfort. Still, she knew she needed this day. She had missed her best friends and they were right, she needed out of the house before she pulled a reenactment of _The Shining. _

Spencer was halfway out the door when she heard the girls giggling lowly in her direction.

"What?" she barked, "What now? Are you going to comment on the circles under my eyes and ask me if I coated binoculars with black paint before using them?"

"No," Emily giggled, covering her mouth, "Spencer..."

"Feel a little draft there, sweetie?" Aria tried, also unable to stop her reactions to the humor of the situation.

Looking down, Spencer noticed that she was standing in the doorway sans pants.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, rushing into the laundry room to grab a pair of rose washed skinny jeans from the hamper, "I'm losing it!"

"No," Hanna corrected, "You lost your mirror, though!"

This time, three pairs of hands were smacking Hanna upside the head.

"Ouch! This isn't the Karate Kid! You can't ambush me without Mr. Yoshi!"

"MIYAGI!" the girls amended collectively, heading out for Emily's car.

**Part two will be up within the next few days! I'm anticipating tomorrow, but we'll see how my studies and errands go! Thanks for being the wonderful peeps you are and keep those reviews flowing in! They warm my heart and chain my muse back down before she can up and run on a last minute vacation to Neverland! I apologize for any mistakes there may be in this chapter - sometimes they stick out like sore thumbs and other times they blend right in to everything else.**

**To answer your question: YES; you WILL find out in Part 2 whether or not this jerk that is responsible for beating Spencer up ends up being cell mates with someone named Earl. It was too much to squeeze in one chapter and I didn't think you guys would need another Neverending Story when there's already one out ;) **


	18. I Spy With My Little Eye: PT 2

**Chapter 18: I Spy With my Little Eye**

**Part 2 **

* * *

Holding up a passion-pink laced baby doll lingerie set, Hanna smashed it against her body, facing the ivory leather floor mirror in the corner.

"So, I know this will tickle me pink, but do you think this will tickle Caleb's pickle?"

Aria removed a Chupa Chup's Icecream Brule lollipop from her mouth, using it as a pointing stick, "I don't know, but I humbly request that you spare us any details about yours and Caleb's leap frog sessions in the bedroom."

Emily agreed, "Yeah, no offense, Hanna, but I really don't want to hear anything about pickles...if you know what I mean."

Spencer licked her lips, "Actually, pickles sound appetizing right now."

"Isn't that like the most cliched craving of the people of pregnancy land?" Hanna teased, "What do you think about this? See through, lace, hearts..."

"It says 'Spread Love, Not Your Legs'. It looks like Valentine's Day got into a car crash with Ke$ha," Aria poked back, wrapping an arm around Spencer's waist, "Leave her be. She's cute."

Determined to silence Hanna's mockery, Spencer tapped her shoe against the glazed porcelain floor, feasting her eyes upon the neon lights of the characteristically classic American hamburger joint across the street.

"I could really go for a milkshake right now."

Metal scratched together as Hanna hung her choice of peek-a-boo attire back up on the display rack, linking her arm with Spencer's, "Now you're speaking my language..."

Spencer's stomach sounded like a revving of an engine, "And maybe a double cheeseburger with black olives and pineapple slices dipped in honey mustard."

Hanna instantly divorced her tall friend's arm, looking mildly disturbed. "Keep talking and I'll be the one experiencing morning sickness."

The girls giggled and made their way across the street, entering the salute to a 1960's diner with black and white checkered floors, jukeboxes, and powder blue booths and bar stools. Seating themselves at the bar, each of them began leafing through the laminated menu, coming to the consensus they should all order appetizers and share them. That was, of course, not including Spencer, who was bent on getting her myocardial infarction in two thick, meaty layers coated in grease and heart burn.

While Aria, Emily, and Hanna swapped chicken fingers, potato skins and a tower of beer-battered onion rings, Spencer chaperoned bite after sauce-dripping bite into her mouth, unwavering even when she hoarded a brain freeze after guzzling her 16 oz chocolate chip mint shake. She was about three fourths of the way through being Pac Man when her body began to experience the spasmodic contraction of the diaphragm, little squeezes passing from her mouth.

Spencer's mouse like noises didn't seem to fit well at all with the jolting of her body.

"Are you encountering an exorcism down there? Do we need to sprinkle Holly water on you?" Hanna asked from two seats down, "Or did they put Mexican jumping beans inside your burger?"

"Holy water, Hanna," Aria corrected, biting down on her straw.

"How can water be holy? How can water have holes in it?" Hanna pondered this for a moment, her eyes lighting up as she finally exclaimed, "Oh! Unless it's frozen, right? Then it could be holy! Because those little holes you see in ice-cubes!"

"No, Hanna. Then it would be ice...and those would be little air bubbles." Emily chimed in, patting her blonde companion on the head, "You okay, Spence?"

Hanna grimaced. "Yeah, you're not going to wreck it Ralph all over are you?"

"First of all," Spencer squawked, "That's a movie. Secondly, how did you even get your high-school diploma? Thirdly, no. I'm just undergoing the world's most violent hiccups."

She pushed her plate away, scrunching her nose. "Plus, I'm suddenly repulsed by the smell of this place. I can't decide if I need a toilet or some air."

Aria fished into her purse, pulling out some money and tossing it onto the counter, "Either way I'll stick by you. I'm immune to the smell of vomit...I've cleaned up after Mike way too many times. But if you want some fresh air, there's this adorable little baby boutique around the corner...what do you say hot mama?"

"Ugh," Hanna rolled her eyes, "You two go for it, I'll stay here and wait for the bill. I'm not going anywhere near that baby shrine. There's probably babies in there! I have a fear of fat, bald things that poop. No thanks."

Amused, Spencer let out a single laugh. "Hanna, what do you think I'll be delivering in a few months? I think you're going to have to get over your Paedophobia. Let's go."

Emily slipped on her Tea berry red Puma jacket, "I for one have no objections to buying my future niece or nephew a onesie. Wait for me!"

By now, lunch time rush had picked up. The diner was buzzing with shoppers. All of the waiters were unavailable, and the clerk behind the bar was too busy taking an order on the phone to see Hanna waving her ticket.

"Hello!"

Deciding that wasn't going to get her anywhere, Hanna noticed the manager come out of the back, heading for the register. Making it her objective to corner him, she got up from her seat and headed down towards the woman.

"Excuse me?" she tried again, leaning over the counter, "Hi, can I get some change pl-"

It was as if she was a ghost that no one could see. It was no use.

Slumping down on the empty stool nearest her, Hanna continued to wait, drumming her hot pink nails on the counter top.

"That won't get you any attention."

Hanna looked to the right of her.

"Pardon me?" she blinked.

The man slumped over into his third cup of coffee hadn't even looked up at her, but continued to speak, his baseball cap low over his eyes, "I said that won't work. You've got to try a more direct approach."

He waited until the clerk ran to the kitchen barking out an order and the manager had gone on to help a customer before he spoke again, "How much?"

"What?"

"How much are they charging you, lady?"

There wasn't enough patience in this stranger's capacity for him to wait for Hanna's answer, so he resorted to yanking away her bill. Simply moving his arm out across the counter, the register within easy access, he pounded his fist down, causing the register to pop open.

"How much change you need?"

Hanna was stunned, but managed a reply, "Uh, I've got a fifty."

Mr. Mysterious sifted through the register, holding out his other hand for Hanna's money. He exchanged it for her rewarded change, scooting the drawer shut when he completed this transaction.

Baffled, Hanna accepted her change, giving this man a run-down, " Thanks. How...how'd you know how to do that?"

"Oh, I've had my eye on this place for awhile now."

Something about this man made Hanna feel uneasy, and suddenly the thought of picking out clothes for tiny humans didn't sound so bad, after-all. Shoving her change into her purse, she made a beeline for the exit.

"Miss? Miss! Blondie! You forgot your coat."

She turned slowly, her dimples poking out as she mustered up an uncomfortable smile. Reversing her steps back to her previous seat, she went to relieve this sketchy man of her designer material, but that's when something really got her attention. She'd never seen eyes so green, not like this. They were unique, almost an unreal shade. He looked clean shaven, but his face was dotted in scars; a particularly long one harbored vertically on his flat nose. It branched out, almost like a tree, towards the top. She wondered how he'd gotten that scar...it was like a terrible attempt at an ode to Harry Potter in the wrong shape and wrong location. As he craned his neck in her direction, Hanna couldn't help but notice a fresh scar on his neck, it looked almost infected; red around the edges.

He must have noticed her staring, because his free hand rolled up the collar of his own jacket, "You alright?"

Hanna's eyes trailed down to the small patch across the shoulder of his coat, catching on the _Duncan's Repairs _logo stitched in with blue.

"Uh, yeah. Fine. Just...thank you."

Accepting her jacket, she hugged it to her, horrified when this John Doe smiled at her, his silver front tooth glistening under the neon lamp above, "Sure. Enjoy your day, now."

"Y-yeah. You...you too..."

She couldn't have bolted out of there soon enough, the wheels in her head spinning. She'd seen that face before. Where had she seen that face before?

That's when it hit her.

On the news. She'd seen a compository sketch on the five o'clock news almost every day since the break in at Spencer and Toby's house.

The stained orange finger tips.

The pear-green eyes.

The silver tooth.

The distinct scar on his nose.

Not to mention the one on his neck that he probably hadn't sought medical attention for and stitched himself to lay low, which would explain why it looked even more dominant than it probably normally would. Hanna, after all, had been stabbed before...she knew what those scars ended up looking like after receiving medical help.

Debating whether or not to call Spencer over and make her relive that horror to confirm her worst suspicions, Hanna's instincts put the pedal to the medal.

He was just about to leave when the officer Hanna had grabbed off of the streets approached him, and as Emily, Aria and Spencer were leaving the baby store around the corner to come find their blonde friend, he was being cuffed and lowered into a squad car.

As his face caught Spencer's through the glass of the back seat of the car, Spencer felt that familiar bubbling in her stomach.

Now it wasn't just the lingering stench of fast food all over her clothing, but fresh vomit too.

Emily aided her by sitting her down on a local bench as another officer took Hanna's statement, and Aria fetched Spencer a bottle of water.

Spencer couldn't believe this was happening. Could she really put all of her fears behind her now?

And more shockingly; had Hanna - the girl who thought Walmart was a store where they sold walls - really just found her attacker and put him behind bars?

**Still to come: Spencer has her first ultrasound appointment and pays a surprising visit to someone you will not believe!  
**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated :) **


	19. Jellybean

**_ Chapter 19: Jellybean_**

* * *

Leveling herself with the Persian green exam table she was currently settled in to meet her Obstetrician, Spencer tucked both arms behind her head like a pretzel. The paper underneath her for sanitary purposes rustled as she shifted her weight in an attempt to get comfortable, but it was no use. Truth be told, she was uncomfortable for a number of reasons, not just because of the see-all gown she was sporting - in which she has flashed Aria multiple times on accident - or the paper she was using as a blanket.

"Thanks for agreeing to be here with me," she finally sighed, "And thanks for staying the night last night. Your company and your cooking were most appreciated. You're the next best thing since Toby can't be here today."

Horrified by some of the graphic images in the magazine she was leafing through, Aria was glad to engage in a conversation as a diversion, "Hey, in all reality here, you're the one doing me a solid. I'm still not so sure I want to go home tonight."

"Why?" Spencer asked, her voice light in a tease-tone, "Are you and Ezra bumping heads instead of bumping naughties? What'd you do? Throw out his pet produce? Jam his typewriter with one of your feather earrings?"

"Worse," Aria joked back, "I shrunk his favorite John Henry sweater vest. Bumping naughties, really, Spencer?"

Spencer propped herself up on her elbows, crossing her legs as her paper skirt shifted to keep herself as modest as possible and not scar Aria for life with the scenery beneath her spread eagle position. Her side braid thunk-ed against her shoulder as she whipped her head in Aria's direction.

"I once condensed Toby's favorite pair of socks a week after we were married. Apparently he had this perception that they blessed him with luck. I think I reacted more favorably to the time he threw my favorite blouse in with the blue load and dyed it."

Aria's nose grew smaller as she shook her head in disbelief, "Unbelievable. Men are such babies. Actually, Ezra's just been so...distant lately. I know he's working on this new novel but...you can only roam around in your undergarments, heels, and a can of cherries in tote for so long before you end up making an ice-cream sundae and wallowing in self-pity as your feet undergo intense spa treatment for the blisters you've obtained in the process of failing to seduce your love."

Spencer giggled, "If Toby ignored me while I was flaunting what little curves I have I'd seriously start to question his sexuality."

"Speaking of the devil, where is he anyways? I can't believe he's missing your first ultrasound! I would've thought he'd be crashing through the walls like the Koolaid man with Dane Cook on his tail cracking jokes! Did you toss out his Superman cape? What gives?"

"Angel," Spencer revised for her small sidekick, "He's due to be back late tonight. His Grandmother had a stroke, and he wanted to make sure he went to visit before she ceases to exist."

"Wow. I hope she's alright! That's rough."

"Tell me about it," Spencer pouted, "He loves that woman dearly. I can't imagine..." she cut off, stirring in a new ingredient instead, "He really wanted to be here, though. He was pretty let down when I told him it was today."

Aria stood up, digging into her purse, "Well...maybe we could send him a postcard?"

Fighting back the tickle in her throat, Spencer immediately ran counter to Aria's submission. "Absolutely not! What do you propose we put as the subject to this message, hmm? 'Wish you were here'? No. That's -"

But before she knew it, Aria was behind her head, snapping a picture of Spencer's body from that angle; though nothing was thankfully exposed. Next, she handed Spencer the phone and positioned herself down by Spencer's legs, "Okay, now prop your legs up in the stirrups."

"What? Are you insane?"

"Just do it! I swear I will divert my eyes from his reserved parking. Just do it!"

Growling to communicate her disfavor of this action, Spencer kicked her legs up, aiming the camera. Aria peeked from where the sheet was concealing the tall brunette, giving perhaps the craziest cheesiest pose in the history of Aria Cheesy Poses, her thumb up in the air. Spencer took the picture, her head falling back as she laughed.

"Oh my god, sometimes I don't know who is worse; you or Hanna! Hurry up and send this thing; it's against hospital protocol to have cell phones out an active. It's considered an invasion of privacy."

Sending the virtual and comedic bundle on its' merry way to Toby's inbox, Aria rolled her eyes, "Please, like Toby hasn't already invaded your privacy. Besides, that's what the obstetrician will be doing anyways. Modesty goes out the window when you're in stirrups. Better get used to that."

Groaning, Aria continued, "Suddenly I'm developing restless leg syndrome. Why is it they always request you arrive fifteen minutes prior to your scheduled appointment, but then they themselves don't bother to show up for another...oh..." she checked her watch, "Thirty seven minutes?"

Spencer was trying to relax, letting her eyeballs sink into the back of her head as she hummed to herself, "Hurry up and wait."

"I just don't understand the stress of urgency if-"

But Aria wasn't able to finish her clamor, as there was a light knocking and then an entrance from a tall, middle-aged woman with brown pecan hair, and a round face. A friendly expression of her face, she looked to Aria's twisted one first, holding up her hands a bit.

"I come in peace. I'm Dr. Blair Barone," she moved in her salmon colored scrubs to shake Spencer's hand, "You must be Spencer, and you..." she looked back at Aria as she began washing her hands in the sink, "Do not resemble a Mr. Cavanaugh...are you two...in a domestic partnership...did I read my charts wrong?"

Spencer and Aria both shook their heads rapidly, almost desperately.

"What? No!" Aria insisted, "No!"

"My husband, Toby, wasn't able to make it today. He'll be here next time. This is Aria."

"I see, so you brought along your friend for moral support, that's perfect. Alright, let's have a look shall we?"

Her eyes bouncing to Spencer's already propped up legs, Dr. Barone bit back a smile, "Or it appears someone else was first in line for tickets under the circus tent to see the show. Let me guess, you sent your husband a humorous picture to further pile onto his dish of guilt."

Aria sniggered, "More like showboating what he was missing. How'd you know?"

"It's not often I arrive and find my patient already in stirrups doing the spread eagle, and believe it or not, I have been in this position myself. Unluckily for me, however, my husband wasn't missing my first exam for noble reasons; he was busy with a dental hygienist...I guess I should have seen it coming; all those sweater vests he wore...and he was obsessed with them, you know? Just an unhealthy fascination with them. I'm starting to think the turning point in the spiraling of our divorce was the morning I accidentally shrunk his favorite one in the dryer."

The look on Aria's face was priceless. Her cheeks grew as white as the tiling on the floor, and she was looking pretty magnetized to the waste basket nearby.

Dr. Barone blinked, "Was it something I said? Too much information? Apologies."

Aria glared at Spencer, "Don't. say. a. word."

Spencer's entire body was shaking with muffled laughter, the frog in the back of her throat ready to leap out. Deciding to take Aria out of the spotlight, Spencer knitted her brows together, "So, I've read up on this whole process, but you might have to walk me through it. I'm a little..."

"Nervous? Not comfortable with a stranger in salmon looking for gold in your canyon? Perfectly normal. If there's anything that can assure you, I've seen it all. I do this for a living. There are no strange questions...just...strange people."

Spencer was definitely appreciating the comicalness that her new doctor had to offer, but Aria was still stewing in the corner.

"Alright, Spencer, I just want you to lie back down. Try to relax. You're not terribly far along in your pregnancy, so typically what we do here is a transvaginal ultrasound. You may experience slight discomfort for a moment...and it's going to be a bit cold. This lets us look at your uterus a little better. I'm not sure what extent of an exam they did for you at the hospital, but we'll make sure today is thorough."

Dr. Barone began the process, and Spencer hissed at the sudden, cold contact of the wand. Glancing at the screen, Dr. Barone used her spare hand to point in narration of the image, "If you look up here now you'll see that we're right by your bladder. And here, we have your uterus! Everything's looking great...and right here," she circled the area with her gloved finger, "Is the embryo!"

Spencer was surprised at how quickly the waterworks were being induced, and she was quick to flash Aria a smile of gratitude when the tinier brunette took her hand.

"That's it? That's my baby?"

"That's your baby," Dr. Barone smiled, "And he or she looks just fine. This little area here? That would be their heartbeat. It looks strong!"

Aria was equally moved, squeezing Spencer's hand with a giant beam as she hopped a little on her heels, "Spencer, there's your baby. It looks like a jellybean. You're growing a jellybean."

When Spencer looked up, she couldn't help but snort. Aria was looking every bit like Niagara Falls and Spencer was the one holding it together; one would assume the roles would be reversed.

Offering an additional smile, Dr. Barone waved the wand around inside Spencer a little more for a new angle of vision, "Pretty incredible, isn't it? Congratulations, mommy. You are nine weeks into your pregnancy and on the blastoff to experiencing the miracle of life in just a few short months. Do you have any questions or concerns?"

Spencer shook her head, unable to formulate even the simplest of words; her vocabulary bank suddenly robbed by this precious little life on the screen. As Dr. Barone printed off the pictures for Spencer - and at Aria's request, one for her - Spencer's eyes remained plastered to that image of her kidney shaped baby that she and Toby had created with so much love. It was all real now. It was so, so very real. They were having a baby.

"Very well," Dr. Barone concluded, removing of her gloves into the sterile bin. She nodded happily in congratulations again at Spencer, before patting Aria on the shoulder, "Be sure to stop on your way out and schedule your next appointment, and I will be seeing you shortly. It was nice meeting you both. Take care now!"

Once the door had latched shut, Aria was all too anxious to whip her phone back out, holding the scanned picture of Spencer's baby under the lens of her built in camera.

Spencer's hand reached out to interrupt her best friend's action, sitting up and lowering her legs, "No, don't! I want to show Toby in person. Something like this should be reserved for an in-person, sentimental moment. Besides, he's probably on the road now. I don't want him to get curious and go off the road because his line of vision is hindered by the tears in his eyes."

Aria offered Spencer her jacket, assisting in helping Spencer back onto her feet, "You think he's going to cry?"

Spencer nodded.

"I do, too! I think he'll weep for joy. If he does, you have to vow to inform me, better yet, tape it!"

Nudging Aria playfully with her shoulder, Spencer led them down to the front desk to make an appointment with the receptionist there, "Please, little miss blubber-so-much-her-make-up-has-transformed-her-into-a-raccoon."

Aria helped herself to the mints on the counter, "You're the stone-cold soul! I am in celebration, alright? I'm going to be an Aunt!"

She paused, "Besides, this may the closest I ever get to producing an heir to the Fitzgerald throne."

Linking their arms together, Spencer thanked the elderly man who held the door for them, "Aria, Ezra is not ambidextrous! He's been barricading himself behind his novel; but you have to start making demands. Throw yourself at him. If he turns you down then, you are welcome to stay in our guest room and nanny your future niece. But I'm telling you, you have nothing to worry about. Lighten up, will you? Let's go make those cookies and have a Sex in the City marathon, alright?"

"Fine," Aria settled, putting on her seat-belt, "But if he doesn't stop petting limes and petting me, he'll be the one on a leash in the dog house, and I'm taking an oath of celibacy and becoming a woman of religious order."

* * *

Spencer was nibbling like a bird on the mélange of cookies Aria had baked for her during their girls' afternoon of sisterly indulgence in Mr. Big and the woes of New York fashion, when she heard a jumbling from outside.

Still a little jumpy from the break-in, though it was long behind her now, - especially since the two monsters that had been responsible for her trauma were now behind bars under careful supervision - Spencer wrapped her hands around the meat mallet nearby. Making her journey to the front living room window on her tip-toes, she peeled back the curtain for a better view. Alarm system or no alarm system, she still didn't' feel entirely secure without Toby here with her. Coming to the consensus that the person outside didn't pose a threat to her well-being, Spencer slipped on her shoes and gathered up the plate of cookies left-over from Aria's baking spree. She threw the door open and trudged outside, one arm wrapped tightly around her middle as the harsh wind nipped at her face and neck.

The individual in knotted jeans, an over-sized plaid sweatshirt and oil-stains covering just about every surface of his skin, his long ash blond hair tied back. His eyes were of coal as he looked up at her, her visit unexpected, but they lightened as soon as he saw Spencer shiver.

Dabbing off his wrench on a red cloth, Adam shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes lowering to the ground shyly.

"Uh, hi," Spencer began, "I'm..."

"Spencer," the young man finished, "I know who you are. What do you want?"

The sudden clump in Spencer's throat needed to be washed away before she stopped breathing. She didn't know why she was so worried.

"Right, um, of course, of course you know that. Why wouldn't you know that? I'm sorry..."

"No need to apologize, but I'd still like to know why you're here. I'm kind of in the middle of this."

Her eyes settling on the cherry car in the driveway, Spencer nodded at it, "What are you working on here?"

The young, mysterious man exhaled, his lips bumping together as he did so. "1968 Chevrolet Impala Convertible. I'm restoring it so I can get the hell out of this town."

Spencer shifted awkwardly on her feet, finally wedging the plate of cookies between them as his eyes greeted them questionably, "Oh! I brought you some cookies. I can't take credit for making them. I'm not exactly gifted in the culinary department. Just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. And being nosy...and apparently making a complete and utter fool of myself. Here. I'm sorry to have bothered you-"

While Spencer was turning on her heels, the boy reached for her wrist, spinning her, "Wait! I'm sorry. I'm not exactly gifted when it comes to practicing social norms, including my manners. I didn't mean to send you flying down the road with a trail of dust behind you."

Smiling through tight lips, Spencer bobbed her head, "I wanted to extend my gratitude...for...well, saving my life, I guess," she cupped her still flat stomach through her shirt, "Our lives."

Adam's eyes played follow-the-leader, "You're...?"

Spencer confirmed with another nod.

"You didn't come over here to offer me the highly-honorable position of Godfather or something, have you?"

Chuckling, Spencer leaned against the mailbox, "No, but I am here to bestow upon you the just-fully earned position of hero. If you hadn't have jumped in when you did..."

He shrugged back modestly, fiddling with the saran rap on the cookies, "Right place, wrong time. I'm just happy you're alright. You are alright, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I think so. For the most part. If you count attacking a load of laundry in the corner because it's dark and you think it's an assassin as being alright, then I guess so."

"Doesn't everyone have that moment at some point in their lives? At least you know the distinguish what's sane and isn't. I exposed my computer chair to my martial arts skills - or lack of - the other night. I thought it was a monster. Four legs."

Laughing again, Spencer couldn't believe how easy it was to hold a conversation with this stranger. How had he gone so unnoticed before?

"I think you and I may have more in common than thought before."

"Yeah," Adam chuckled, "We can add going ape-shit on inanimate objects to our living on the same street list of things we share."

He noticed Spencer staring at the scars on his knuckles and shoved his hands back into his pockets, "Don't worry about those."

The front door to his house opened, and his mother began screaming for him to come inside.

Looking apologetically at Spencer, Adam gathered the plate of cookies in his arms, "Thanks for the cookies. It's a nice switch-up from the Easy Mac I usually have. Oh, and Spencer? I'm glad you're okay."

Watching as he hurried inside, Spencer waved with a soft smile, "Goodbye, Adam."

**_Soooooo, thoughts on Adam? Thoughts on the Sparia interaction? For those of you who have read my sequel to this story, AATWBT, you'll know that Aria calls Audrey Jellybean...;) That's how that nickname came to be! Dr. Blair was a special treat for my amigo A.J. who is probably theee most die-hard Chuck and Blair fan out there. _**

**_You know those people you see outside playing guitar or tap-dancing on flattened, cardboard boxes for cash? Consider me doing the same, only for your reviews. Silence is golden, but not when it comes to reading and receding...or...whatever. So please don't touch that dial and submit your pretty little reviews in that beautiful little box you see below so I know to continue :)_**

**_Next chapter: Toby returns! (I've missed him, too.) _**

**_If I make zero sense in this note, please forgive me. I've been subjecting myself to studies ALL weekend and my brain is just as tired as my eyeballs are at the moment. Thanks for your clicks and feedback! You're all fabulous and loved. _**


	20. Holiday greetings! Note

**_Author's Note:_**

**_I wanted to extend my best wishes to you all for the upcoming holidays! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah -whatever you and yours celebrate, may it be JOYOUS :) I will not be back until the day AFTER Christmas (26th), but you can expect an update for both THIS story AND the Spoby summer one-shots (Making Up for Lost Time) when I do get back to civilization. Unfortunately, there will be limited to no internet access for me where I'm heading for the holiday celebration...therefore, I am unable to update. BUT I promiseeeeee a juicy update after I get back! So keep your eyes out! Thank you all for your outstanding support, reviews, and messages. You're all one in a million and deserve the happiest of days. _**

**_See you VERY soon :) xoxo. _**

* * *

**What's to come yet:**

**Toby sees the ultrasound pictures**

**Spencer and Toby go to the next ultrasound**

**More Hanna, Emily, Aria, Caleb and Ezra interactions**

**You'll see more Taylor/Melissa**

**Romance for our favorite couple**

**Don't touch that dial...erm...mouse? Mwah! **


	21. We Did That

**As promised, here is the next chapter. Happy belated holidays! **

**Chapter 20: We Did That**

* * *

Spencer was half asleep when she heard the door downstairs open, and the alarm chime to let her know there was a new presence in the home. She could hear him taking off his boots before he climbed the stairs; it was funny how well she could distinguish Toby's footsteps after so many years of living with him. The covers were thrown back in a matter of seconds, and frankly Spencer was fighting the overwhelming appetite to tackle him as soon as she locked in on her visual target, but she somehow managed to put a leash on her emotions - or hormones - to pad down the hallway to meet him halfway instead; shoving the picture she'd been tracing so fondly into her back pocket.

Toby seemed just as antsy to get to her, in fact, he had already disposed of his shirt in high hopes. The manner in which he drew her into him, their bodies colliding, one would assume the two lovers had been separated for weeks, months maybe. In reality it had been a short 48 hours. Though to them, it seemed as if all of eternity had passed since they'd last been within arms reach.

Wasting no time, Toby untangled her arms from around his neck and tugged on her hips. Kneading his fingers into the flesh that had been exposed bridging between her jeans and the powder blue, V-neck drop sleep sweater she was sporting, Toby used his thumbs to rub circles around to her navel. He began lifting the soft material like a draw bridge letting by a boat, mischievously directing a grin in Spencer's direction before ducking down to pop his head under the sweater. He could hear her react with a surprised gasp, but he continued; sprinkling soft, tender kisses up her still fairly toned stomach, between the dip between her ribs and breasts, his hands skimming up to rake over those same areas. When they enclosed around her breasts, Spencer hissed sharply. Suddenly, Toby's head was looped through the neck line of her sweater, and their noses were brushing; the sweater covering their heads like a tent with a sunroof.

"Hey! Who turned out the lights?" Spencer giggled.

"Hello, there," Toby beamed boyishly.

Stagnating another giggle, Spencer blinked a few times, her eyelashes tickling his. "May I help you, sir? You appear to be lost."

"I'm with the FBI, actually: The Fine Body Investigators. I'm here to search the premises and take into possession whatever I please, miss."

"Oh, is that so? Do you have a search warrant? I have rights, you know, as a law-abiding citizen."

Toby guffawed against her lips, "Law-abiding my ass. I'm going to have to take you in for interrogations."

"I don't think so, buddy," she played along, dipping her hands under the sweater they were now sharing, pinching his chest.

"Ouch! That is assault to an honorable figure of authority! Are you resisting arrest, Mrs. Cavanaugh?"

Spencer's fingers toyed with his belt buckle, though their bodies were pressed so tightly together, it was a miracle she could even manage to do so.

"Honorable figure of authority, that's what you think you are? Ha! That's hilarious. Nothing about the way you're touching me or looking at me right now is even remotely honorable. Besides, we both know who has the authority in this relationship. Or should I remind you? Resisting arrest? Could be. What are you going to do about it, officer?"

Impressed that Spencer hadn't scolded him for how cold his hands were or how he was stretching out her sweater, Toby pressed on, one hand still enveloping one of her bumps. He applied more pressure, raising a brow. He could see Spencer draw in a breath, and when she anchored her teeth into her lower lip, he knew it was only a matter of time before Spencer gave in to his advancements. Still, it was fun to annoy her this way. She always caved first, and they both knew it.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to restrain you and bring you downtown. Anything you say can and will be held against you..."

"Mm-mmm. In that case, Toby Cavanaugh, please. Feel free to arrest my lips."

Spencer, as Toby predicted, was the first to initiate their lengthy lip lock, but Toby didn't hesitate to deepen it. One arm around her waist securely, the other gently scratching down her stomach, he began backing them into their bedroom by memory, cherishing every sound of approval that ejected from Spencer's mouth against his. He had them through the archway of their sanctuary in no time, and as soon as Spencer felt the back of her legs hit their canopy, fit-for-a-king- cloud-on-a-mattress, she purposely pushed her hips against his, causing Toby to growl.

She did it again, just for a sequel, loving that deep sound in the back of his throat. His lips froze, his shallow breath puffing against her lips and nose. She felt his hands scale down to her hips again, cementing hers more firmly against his, mimicking her previous series of gestures.

When her lips transferred to his collarbone he lifted her arms upwards, wiggling both of their bodies free of the sweater that had been confining them, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Nuzzling his head into her hair as she continued complimented that sensitive patch of skin around his neck, Toby rubbed her back lovingly.

"I missed you."

"That's nice. I didn't really miss you."

"What?" he demanded, poking the indents of her back, "Really? Then why are you wearing my cologne? And why is your side of the bed still made up, but my side looks like it's been occupied recently? Why did you also order my favorite take-out, which I know you're not a huge fan of in the first place and empty the entire contents, but leave the empty box in the fridge- something I do when I'm normally home that drives you up the wall? Huh?"

Spencer blushed against his hot skin, halting her dancing lips to snuggle into his warm body, her arms wrapped around his waist, "So maybe I missed you terribly."

Locking his arms around her own waist, Toby kissed the tip of her head, "That's what I thought. I hate having to be away from you. I also hate that I missed your first ultrasound. I feel like such an ass. I'm already failing at this father gig."

Spencer reached up to brush his three-day stubble with her finger tips, letting her index finger plop into his chin-dimple, "Hey, you needed to be there for your family. I understand. You're not an ass, Toby. You're the farthest thing from it. You're not failing anything, baby. You just can't be in two places at once. It's impossible. But if you could, I know you would be. I'm glad your Granny is alright, that's all that matters."

Toby sighed against her forehead, leaving a lingering kiss there. He let his head bury into her shoulder, "Spencer, you are my family now. You and this baby. You're both my top priority. I promise to be there for every doctor's appointment, the birth, every preschool, Kindergarten, or fifth grade graduation every volleyball or soccer game. I'm glad she's alright too. But, it's still a sensitive subject for me, so...I'm requesting we discuss something else now. Like how sorry I am I wasn't there, and how did the appointment go?"

Pressing her lips into his shoulder, Spencer tickled his back, her voice morphing into the Toby-tone. "I know you will be, Toby. I know."

She exhaled when he changed the subject, not wanting to push him. "You're not allowed to say the S-word anymore. What's done is done. It went well. My new doctor is exceedingly friendly, and she's got a great sense of humor to boot. Aria cried when she saw the heartbeat, I didn't. Speaking of, I have a surprise for you, Daddy."

A shiver passed through Toby's veins when Spencer called him Daddy, he still couldn't believe he was going to be a father in a few months...hell, technically, he already was a father. "Do you now? What would that be, my little soldier?"

Finding his hand, Spencer dragged it down her back to the lining of her jeans, watching Toby's face delightfully as she placed it into her back pocket and ditched his hand to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, her other hand smoothing over the ripples of his cheeks and the corners of his eyes as his smile expanded like a watermelon.

Toby's fingers brushed over his present in her back pocket, and before he could make a perverted remark about where his hand was currently nestled, he retrieved the photograph of the sonogram and held it up between them. "What's this?"

Spencer bit her lip, her eyes bobbing between the capture and his eyes; he was so adorable right now.

"What does it look like?"

The contrast of Toby's reddened rims with his moonlight irises gave off the illusion that they were now carribean aqua. Though she hated seeing him cry on those extremely rare occasions he would, she never thought his eyes looked more enticing than they did then. His eyes were always beautiful, but right now she felt like she was watching a thousand sunrises, taking her breath away. The immediate change in his facial expression almost broke her heart, though she wasn't quite sure why. She was just as touched by how touched he was with this picture of their baby, and suddenly wanted to hold him in her arms and never let him go. If he was already reacting like this, how would he react when he joined her for the next appointment and could see it close up? How would he react when he heard the swishing of the heart-beat on the monitor? How would he react when she brought life to their child? All of these thoughts invaded her heart, tugging on each and every corner. She was so in love with this man, especially in this moment.

He looked from the picture to her, not daring to let his eyes remain there for too long, before he was back to being mesmerized by the photograph in hand.

"Oh, Spencer...it's our baby. This is our baby! Our baby. It's our baby."

Spencer couldn't seem to take her eyes off of him, smiling with complete pride as he marveled over her little present, "Yes, Toby; that's our baby. We did that."

"We made that?"

"We made that." Spencer confirmed tearfully.

"It looks like a little bean," Toby choked.

Spencer couldn't help but laugh, "That's what Aria said! She said it looks like a jellybean!"

"Jellybean," Toby repeated.

Raising her knuckles to trace his jaw, Spencer forced his forehead against hers, "You okay?"

At last, his eyes rendezvoused with her meadow-like ones, both reflecting that glimmer of pure love and happiness over this moment. His eyes danced back and forth with hers, his head shaking with utmost sincerity as he whispered throatily.

"I'm so happy. So happy. I love you, so much."

Spencer launched herself into him, her hand cradling the back of his head as he rocked them back and forth, her tears cascading down past her nose to land on his bare shoulder, "My love for you has no limits; it is endless and unconditional, Toby. I'm happy too."

It felt right, crying now; now that she was with her husband. Even if she'd wanted to cry at the doctor's with Aria, Spencer wouldn't have. Such an intimate moment like that should be reserved anyways; not that she minded sharing that appointment with her best friend. Now that Toby was home and had seen a copy of the first ultrasound captures, she felt like she could let every single emotion she'd been bottling up release. There was something about Toby's presence that made her feel so safe; not just physically. Apparently, it was the case for both parties, because Spencer too could feel moisture on her back.

Both of their bodies - like they had gravitated towards the other's - were now drifting apart, though it was as if there were invisible strings keeping them attached somehow.

Toby's hands came upwards to cup her face; she felt so small in his large hands, and yet, the way he kissed the trail of hot tears away made her feel larger than life. Spencer's lips fell open a crack as Toby brushed over her lobes of her ears and her tragus on each side. His delicately plump lips left whispers against her eyelids, instantly causing her to sink into him like putty. Spencer melted into Toby like cotton candy on a pleasant spring afternoon, his lips against hers like sugar evaporating against her tongue. Their bodies melted together like moldings of gold under the fire before being processed into the most extravagant piece of jewelry. The way his lips moved across hers was as graceful and alluring as the performance of _Swan Lake_ Spencer had been enthralled by in first grade; it was as if their kissing was a ballet performance mastered to generate a showering of applause, flowers and requests for an encore. Yet, everything about the way he was kissing her, touching her, and looking at her was so wonderfully indescribable. He handled her like a light-bulb he couldn't wait to illuminate, but was afraid of breaking.

As much as Spencer loved aggressive Toby that pinned her against walls or the mattress, or tore her clothing to shreds in the heat of the moment, there was nothing quite as perfect as the Toby that was gentle as a lamb.

Spencer didn't think she could feel closer to Toby than she did at this moment. He descended her down with ease and handled her with care as his kisses rained across every inch of skin he could see. He treated her stomach to strings of butterfly kisses, threading his fingers through her own as her cautiously shifted his weight as not to flatten her too much. Spencer didn't think he'd ever been this tender, not even the first time they'd made love. The droplets around her eyes were breaching the contract of remaining confined to the corners there, and they were replaced every-time Toby kissed them away. The sensitive tingling behind her navel was nothing compared to the electrifying sensations her heart was experiencing. Her chest was inflated with so much love it felt like she was a hot air balloon at the highest peak over the mountains surrounded by uncountable amounts of rainbows after a fresh rain.

Toby's eyes were unwavering as he moved against her, holding with hers, even as her own grew heavy. It had to be the longest run they'd ever had, at the slowest pace, with the most gentle caresses. Still, breathless and heavily fatigued, neither Spencer nor Toby wanted to release the other. They both drifted into slumber and dreamed of the day they would meet their creation of love, entirely inter-wreathed.

_**Whew! Hope this was worth the wait! I have soooo many exciting things planned for this story, and I cannot wait to take you on this journey as Spencer continues her pregnancy! Thanks for being such troopers, and for being so supportive. Your reviews light up my face like the Christmas lights on my block light up the night sky. Please don't forget to leave them! :) Just like Spencer's love for Toby is endless, mine for you is as well. Oh, and I guess that one couple I write about, too ;) **_

_**What kind of things are you looking most forward to in this story, especially as far as Spencer's pregnancy goes? Do you have any predictions? What outrageous- and not so outrageous- things do you think will happen? Any requests? I have a few days off, so I'm hoping to have more regular updates, of course your feedback alwaaaays helps push that along. **_

_** (((ajgklagjklgjklagjlk wohtaigjklagj lbmlashjrklahgioghioagjjagkl jlg;jkl. I just love you all. Seriously. See, I speak your language too! :p )))**_

_**p.s. Does anyone else wish to see Pregnant! Spoby on the show or...? because it should happen. Not while Spencer is still in high-school, preferably but someday. Maybe Marlene could go Harry Potter, yes? Who else would turn into a puddle if they saw Toby/Keegan holding a child? Or Spencer speaking in a baby voice? Or Toby kissing Spencer's stomach and telling her she's beautiful or or or or...oh. I'm fangirling again, aren't I? Well then. Carry on with your day. **_

_**Jingle bells, **_

_**hiatuses smell,**_

_**Spoby drama is on the way,**_

_**oh Marlene I thought we had a deal,**_

_**that Spoby would be endgame -hey!**_

_**Jingle bells,**_

_**sad spoby is hell,**_

_**I vow to keep my updates coming your way,**_

_**oh what fun it is to be in a bubble (nothing rhymes with bubble in this sonnnng)**_

_**instead of face fictious-reality, hey! **_


	22. In Sickness and In Health

**Chapter 21: In Sickness and In Health**

* * *

Spencer's first trimester was well under way, and she was 11 weeks along; though at times, it felt like she'd been pregnant for eternity. Her bump was small, and she and Toby's baby was probably about the size of a fig, but looking into the mirror, she felt like she was included in the Hippopotamidae family. Maybe it was because she was so thin prior to getting pregnant that that little pooch was noticeable. It felt like it had just appeared magically overnight.

Sharing her body with another human was so new to Spencer, and she frankly didn't think she'd ever adjust to the feeling. She could however get used to the sudden growth in her hair, fingernails, and toenails. This pregnancy was doing wonders to adding to those lengths. However, the collection of oil on her skin in addition to the little breakouts of blemishes around her chin and cheeks were decaying the last of her sanity. To add to the mix of the cake she was baking in her oven and how it was morphing her body like puberty on steroids, she'd been undergoing hot flashes due to the increased amount of blood flow pumping through her body.

But that wasn't even the worst of the alterations. No. Spencer was experiencing the joys associated with morning sickness. And at this very moment, a wave of it had burglarized Spencer's poor body, with no intentions of emigrating anytime soon.

Cowered over the toilet, there was a storm ready to erupt for the third time that day, and moments later, as Spencer's entire body jolted, the Lucky Charms, orange juice, and banana Spencer had enjoyed for breakfast regurgitated. Suddenly those Lucky Charms weren't so magically delicious coming back up her throat. The orange juice she'd had came with a promise from the manufacturer it would bring sunshine to her day, but clearly that was false advertising. The only thing it brought Spencer was the desire to swim laps in Freshburst Listerine and make-out with her toothbrush...though, the act of brushing her teeth against her tongue had triggered the overwhelming need to bring tribute to the sewer Gods.

Toby had arrived home from an errand in a quest for cheese fries as Spencer had requested - more like demanded- just in the nick of time. He leaped forward, abandoning her sack of baby fuel, holding back her hair as she tossed the contents of her stomach miserably.

Spencer was sure that if the sounds she was releasing weren't enough to drive him out of the door, the stench would. She herself couldn't stomach the smell of vomit. Even back when they'd been dating prior to becoming man and wife, she'd lock him out of the bathroom so he couldn't witness her at her lowest, foulest point. He of course was never pleased with this, always the nurturing kind of soul that wanted to be there to sooth her. She'd fallen ill since their engagement, and Toby had gotten much quicker on his feet, so shutting him out was an impossible task.

As unappealing as the scene must be, Spencer was satisfied with his comforting company as he traced circles on her back with his palm and waited it out with her. When at long last Spencer was sure she was done hurling, she allowed Toby to help her up. He prepared her toothbrush and a cup of water to rinse with for her, and Spencer gladly accepted the thoughtful gesture.

Even though Toby had miraculously managed to retain most of her hair back during her trip to the toilet, little pieces of it had fallen victim to the line of fire.

Toby simply turned on the faucet in the tub, running a bath for her. He held her against him as they sat on the edge together, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she moaned from the alterations of temperatures her body was torturing her with. His fingers rowed up and down her scalp after he helped disrobe her and lower her ever-so-gently into the tub. The Go Go Guava shampoo that doubled as bubble bath that Toby began to lather into her hair inflated her nostrils. She'd liken the refreshing aroma it brought to that of driving past a skunk on the interstate, holding one's breath, and then finally reaching a field of flowers for oxygen intakes. The scent was so succulent. Not even bothering to cloak the moan slipping from the back of her throat as Toby continued to massage her head, Spencer's lashes lowered.

She'd nearly fallen asleep when she felt Toby's hands glide down to her neck and start performing similar actions. The craning of her neck and content dispensing of a sigh must have rallied up some courage in him, because soon his hands were voyaging downwards. He made sure to cover everything in his path, fully regaining Spencer's attention and alerting her senses. When his hands reached their final destination, her navel, he made sure to gently rub. She knew he was trying to calm her, and to relax her body in some relief of the discomfort she'd been in all morning, but the act itself was life-boating sharp tingles bellow her bellybutton. Had it been any other time, had she not just committed cooking tossing minutes ago, and didn't feel like sleeping for the next eternity, she'd probably have pulled him into the tub with her and used the excuse of raging hormones. But, this was not the time. Right place, wrong time. The prickles below sea level would have to be tended to later and put on hold. Now that her hair was freed of shampoo and conditioner, she wanted to sink into their bed and rest.

All of the homework she'd collected from her classes the night before would just have to wait until later. Her body required sleep, and she wasn't going to reject that need anytime soon. Wait...was she serious? Was Spencer Hastings-Cavanaugh actually procrastinating homework for slumber? This was quite the affair!

Toby was sweet enough, as per usual, to assist her in wrapping up in her favorite fuzzy fleece robe that he'd slipped away from her company from momentarily in order to warm up in the dryer to her liking.

"Mmmph," Spencer hummed, as Toby helped boost her onto their bed, granting him permission to place slippers over her glacial toes, "They should really have called it Morning, Afternoon, and Night Sickness. I am highly anticipating the commencement of the first trimester so that these stupid waves of nausea start to wane."

Reaching for his hand, she stroked his knuckles, pouting. "I'm sorry, baby. I know you drove all that way to fetch me those artery clogging cheese fries only to have them go to waste. Somebody decided it would be funny to make Mommy sick."

Toby simply leaned over and kissed the material of her robe that was sheltering her stomach, "They didn't mean to. It's fine, really. You know I'd drive to the North Pole if that's what you needed. Or wanted."

"Hmm, I think you'd require a submarine and a snowplow for that kind of travel, sir. You're right, no one is at fault here. It's just easier to play the initial blame game when you feel like you've been run over by a sixteen-wheeler, punched in the stomach by a bag of bricks, and left in the oven to blister. I know it's all for a very good cause."

Smiling earnestly at his wife, Toby began undoing the string of her robe, "The best cause. Let's get you some comfy clothes..."

Spencer objected, tangling her fingers with his as a diversion, "No! This is comfy! Just let me sleep in this."

Agreeing to her rather adorable order, Toby compressed his hand against hers before freeing it. He walked around the bed to grab Spencer some more blankets from their closet, tucking her in snug.

His lips adorned her temple as he elevated his weight above her, "Can I get you anything?"

Spencer's fingers promenaded up the length of his arm to tickle his chin. She batted her eyelashes at him, having mastered such a heart-tugging act years ago. Her bottom lip accented, she let her voice alter into a playful, cartoon-like tone.

"Cuddles; they are appreciated. And more blankets. And tea. And you."

"You really want tea right now?" Toby teased, as he swept aside some of her damp tresses from her eyes.

Letting her head curtsy, Spencer was more than charmed when Toby returned some ticks of the clock later with a cup of coffee, more blankets, and his body. After she sipped some of her specially made weapon of choice, Spencer extended her arms desperately for her husband to join her in bed.

Toby obeyed, settling beside her. He drew her into his arms and swaddled his expecting beauty, singing one of their most beloved Coldplay songs into her hair as he watched her drift off into her forty winks that she so obviously needed right now. He followed soon after, one hand protectively positioned over her stomach.

"Toby? Thank you for taking such good care of me. I love you." Spencer whispered, half asleep.

Groggily, Toby pulled her closer, dipping his face in-between her shoulder and neck, "In sickness and in health, Spencer."

**A little bit shorter chapter than usual, but I've been recovering from being sick, and I guess my muse is not 100% back to health yet, either. I'm hoping to crank out another chapter (WITH THAT SPOBY ULTRASOUND YOU'VE BEEN SO PATIENTLY WAITING FOR LADIES AND GENTS) within the next two days. We'll see what my muse permits...sometimes she runs a very tight ship, you know! ;) **

**Also, that show that causes us constant torment returns oh...TODAY...so I wish you all luck as you watch. I am unable to stomach this show just yet...still pretty bitter with what's being done...but I'm sure with having a tumblr, this account, AND twitter I'll hear allllll about the joys (sarcasm) of Spoby and Toby unraveling into a heap of wah-wah. Sending you all my hugs and support! We're all in this together now! **

**Your reviews, as per always, are like finding easter eggs filled with 100 dollar bills on Easter morning, so pleaseeee bless me with them. The more the merrier, yeah? I want to know what you enjoyed, what you want more of, etc. If you want to vent about the show, my inbox is always open :) If you want to toss me an idea, it's open. My heart is full and my door's always open, you can sob anytime you waaaannnt...I don't mind spending ev'ery daaayyy...Oh. Am I busting out into a song? Whoops. **

**I hate being one of those people that demands a certain number of reviews- though I've previously been guilty, so pardon me for those times! - in order for the next chapter to be posted by a certain date...so how many you leave is up to ya'll. But if I get zero, you know, I might just cry myself to sleep, and you really don't want that because you'll surely hear my wails from across the world. Ha-ha! xoxo. **

**THANKS A MILLION AND ONE. **

**p.s. Remember Adam? Spencer's heroic neighbor? Would anyone oppose to seeing him again in this story? **


	23. I'm On Fire For You

**_I want to start by apologizing for the tardy update. Been sick :( I'm back now, and cannot wait to share what is yet to come in this story! Drama, romance, friendship, comedy, more cute pregnancy moments leading up to the birth...stay tuned folks! It's going to be quite the ride! I would really love to update tomorrow, but that all depends on your wishes. I have been getting a decrease in hearing from you all, know you're busy, so I hope that everything is going well in all that you're up to! Give me a holler! Not hungry for reviews, just interested in your thoughts :) xoxo _**

**_p.s. As I have disclaimed in the AN for Making Up For Lost Time, I am no longer watching PLL. I cannot stomach what they're doing to Toby and to Spencer, and I just don't feel like it's the same show I fell in love with. SO, that being said, I am catching up with spoilers after the fact through what friends or tumblr tells me. Even though I'm on strike against watching (let's see how long until I cave...), I want to extend my support to all you Spobettes. My inbox, my tumblr, my twitter are all open to you if you need to vent. _**

**_Don't jump ship now! Wrencer can never last, and Spandrew seems to be just a fling...even if they do grow into a relationship, there's no way Spencer will care for him as deeply as Toby or feel that strongly of a connection. Spoby forever! _**

**_Chapter 22: I'm on Fire For You_**

* * *

To say things between Spencer and Toby lately had been mild was putting it lightly. With her morning sickness interrupting her daily routines - and their romancing- Spencer was hardly up for anything these days. How she made it to her classes was a wonder, but somehow she managed. The ice for this hot water was that her morning sickness should be on the borderline of dissolution. She looked forward to functioning like an actual human being again in the next week or two to come.

Toby had been a saint; when he wasn't working his own ass off saving up money for their anticipated neonate, he was taking care of Spencer. His late night runs to get her ice-cream, french fries, burgers, hot wings, cherries, and even shaved ice were a common occurrence these days, as was running baths for her to relax.

Spencer's body was definitely changing, as was her behavior. It wasn't anything too drastic, but poor Toby had been deprived of all things sexual for weeks. Spencer just simply wasn't in the mood. She felt dead on her feet. She felt disgusted with her appearance, though Toby used every chance he had to tell her in some form that she was still just as beautiful as she'd ever been, if not more so now. How Toby found her to be the least bit appealing when she was stodging around the house in sweats with a puffy face, frizzy hair, and a bump connected to her normally taut stomach, she wasn't sure; but somehow he seemed captivated by her. More so than ever, surprisingly, and that was saying something.

But what Spencer failed to notice was the slight expansion of curvature in all the right places was effecting him drastically. Spencer knew from her studies that throughout history that men were often drawn to curves on women because it stimulated an internal response that actually activates and excites the same part of the brain that highs like drugs also enticed. The sight of women with hourglass shapes seemed to switch on that natural high for most men, as opposed to women lacking bodies that resembled a figure eight race track. Despite popular preferences for women who house cushioning around their hips, waists, busts and bottoms, Toby always seemed to enjoy her tall, gangly figure. It was as if the morphing of her body had aroused something new in him. He couldn't keep his hands, or his eyes, off of her it seemed. Spencer couldn't tally the number of times Toby had squeezed her hindquarters, or went from kissing her cheek adorably to nibbling on her neck. His hands were behaving like they'd just obtained a free pass to Disneyland, and her body was the latest, most provocative attraction. She was continually calling to attention that they were in public, or she was trying to study, or clean. He'd always surrender his hands upward, cackle and inform her that he just couldn't seem to help himself. This of course, often led to her snarling that if his hands couldn't behave, he'd be helping himself to the couch in the living room downstairs for the remainder of her pregnancy.

Still, after he'd gone to so much work to prepare her romantic dinners, scatter flowers all over their hallway and bedroom, and serenade her with his sweet voice, Spencer felt bad for often turning him down.

Tonight she was feeling generous, and itched to make things up to her doting husband. If her calculations for his route home were correct, Toby would be walking in through the door any moment, covered in saw dust. He'd kick off his steel-toe work boots that desperately needed updated laces, curse because his hardhat was still tucked under his arm, run back out to his truck in his socks, throw his hat on his dashboard, race back inside, kick off his mud covered socks, drink shamelessly like a farm boy straight from the milk carton in the fridge, and then head up to their bedroom to check on her. He'd climb the steps humming softly to himself, and then proceed through their bedroom door by calling out her name, whatever pet name that was dubbed flavor of the week, ruffle the dust in his hair, kiss her hello, kiss her stomach hello, and then head for the shower to rid himself of debris and sweat.

Spencer would be waiting for him this time, not in bed with her copy of _Everything Pregnancy_ or bowl of ice, but in the bathtub, void of any clothing and distractions. She decided to wait to discard her robe until he was coming in the front door; nothing was sexy about turning into a carbon copy of a raisin while waiting for his arrival. She heard the door unlatch downstairs, the kicking of his boots against the wall, his rather loud emitting of expletives she'd end up lecturing him over later on for, and then the door slamming again. Shimmying out of her robe, Spencer dipped her toe into the bathwater, letting out an exhale of blessing as the rest of her body sank into the warmth. She tried to ignore the hill where normally her toned stomach would be as she heard Toby climb the stairs, smirking at this routine never failing. It was almost scary how predictable they'd become. She really hoped they wouldn't end up being the boring couple at gatherings no one wanted to interact with, but it was starting to look that way. Maybe tonight would be the night Spencer started bending their safe routine.

The last thing she wanted was Toby to get bored and think their sex life was just as extinct as the dinosaurs, because as soon as she popped their baby out, and healed of course, she was going to pounce Toby every chance she got. Tonight she just so happened to to free of her nausea, and the stirring in her lower stomach had nearly led her to begging Toby to come home on a few occasions that day. She didn't know what had come over her...oh, no, she did. Hormones. Those little bastards. She used to be a seemingly sane woman on the spectrum - though at times that was debatable depending on events and people around her - but now her formally sane mindset was gradually being replaced with an unpredictable creature she did not recognize. It was hungry all the time. And right now? It wasn't hungry for cherries, shaved ice, or hot wings. It was hungry for Toby Cavanaugh. And it wasn't just hungry...the unquenchable beast that had turned off the manual setting for auto-pilot was voracious and fed up with being patient.

The culprits of her hormonal havoc were at a high today, it seemed. Sky high.

Toby made it through their bedroom door, and Spencer's heart rate skyrocketed.

"Spencer? Darling?"

When he didn't find Spencer propped up with an abundance of pillows on their King sized bed, Toby must have assumed that she was tossing her cookies again, because he came barreling around the corner, both hands braced on the door frame.

"Spencer! Are you alr-iiiiiiight..." His questioning tone renovated to elongate his words as he drank in the sight of her in their bathtub, though his brows were still knitted with concern, "You feeling okay? Need anything?"

"Hi, baby," Spencer chirped, throwing a damp, glistening leg up on the side of the tub as she ran an exfoliating shower sponge down it to her ankle, "My body is just in knots, I really need to unwind."

Toby was gawking, but he still didn't seem to catch on to her alternative motives, "Do you uh, do you want...anything?"

Deciding that subtly being thrown at Toby was like him beach hunting for treasures without a metal detector, Spencer kicked it up a notch, lowering her leg back into the water. Sitting up, she wiggled her finger towards herself, biting her bottom lip.

"You."

His gulp echoed off the vaulted ceiling as he responded in little stutters, nervously batting at the saw dust in his hair. "But you're...uh...you're feeling o-o-okay?"

"More alive than ever."

He still didn't seem to catch on, and Spencer was internally bashing her head against the wall with full force. Her patience was dwindling, but he was so adorable when he was clueless that she almost felt guilty for growling at him. Almost.

"Look, I haven't felt like this in weeks, my sex drive is climbing so high it could be best friends with Neptune. I know you've been frustrated with my lack of desire to mambo horizontally with you and you're feeling like a lost toy in a department store put on the top shelf only to collect cob webs! So, are you just going to stand there and look fixedly at me like an adolescent seeing a woman for the first time, or are you going to take off your clothes and get your ass in here? Because Toby Cavanaugh I will be damned if this water turns arctic and the candles become puddles of wax while I wait for the wires in your head to connect to the wheels on your feet! Hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman when she does not get her way!"

Toby continued to blink at her, though it looked like he was finally thawing, "Spencer..."

Spencer had endured enough waiting. Throwing the sponge she'd been dabbing with at Toby, she raised the volume of her orders to further emphasize what it was she wanted.

"Strip!"

It was as if angels had sung in his ears, and the gates to video game utopia opened just for him, because suddenly Toby was frantically unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down to his ankles.

"Oh yes!" he cried, "Thank you, Spencer, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

His wife watched on openly, unable to put a leash on her giggles as her husband ever so enthusiastically shed his garments and revealed the sculpted physique every girl could ever dream about cuddling up to at night. He too was giggling under his breath, looking very much like he'd been struck by Cupid; his movements almost drunk. Pulling his shirt over his head, he whipped it around like a cowboy, (Spencer was surprised this movement wasn't partnered with a "Yeehaw!") letting it fly off into oblivion. She whimpered as he kicked off his last remaining article of clothing and made his way to the tub. Soon moments like these would be nearly an impossibility as her stomach expanded to accommodate for their offspring growing inside, so Spencer was determined to make tonight count. As Toby lowered himself over her body and kissed her deeply, she pressed herself against him. It was already hard to feel as close to him as she used to, even if her bump was still considered pretty small, and she could not seem to satisfy her need to have his skin against hers.

Pushing on his chest, she relied on their own form of sign language to tell him to sit back up, and as he did so, she climbed into his lap, her hands on his shoulders. Never removing her lips from his, she gasped into his mouth as his hands roamed her body freely like a wild stallion finally set free after months of captivity on a ranch. He pushed her closer to him, once again earning him vocal appreciation. The water around them splashed about, dampening the mats placed outside of the tub. They were attacking one another, and it was obvious that their absence of affection had pent up, now releasing an almost exaggerated reaction. Finally putting an end to their frustrations, the mirror began to fog, the water growing cold, but their bodies still ablaze.

Unfortunately, Spencer's heightened senses alerted her to an abnormal smell filling the room. Still, she kept her lips pressed firmly against his collarbone, her fingers digging into his shoulders as Toby tucked his face against her shoulder, biting down to match her energy. Spencer was far past Neptune now, and she was confident that not even spacesuits would keep her regulating oxygen now. Her fingers transferred to tug on his hair roughly, detaching his mouth from her shoulder to brush against her mouth. Gazing hazily into his eyes, she shivered as his nose rubbed against hers lovingly.

"What's that...what's that smell?...Toby...Toby?"

Pecking the tip of her nose before moving on to kiss back down her cheek and neck, Toby shrugged. He didn't seem too alert right now.

Not that Spencer was either, but she couldn't ignore the peculiar scent alarming her nostrils any longer. Beads of sweat illuminated her forehead and back as Toby continued to worship her neck. He growled against her throat as she let her nails anchor into his chest and drag down slowly.

"Mmph, it's so hot in here. I feel like I'm burning, do you feel like you're burning? It's almost suffocating," her inquiry lessened into a whimper and Toby's attention to her skin almost distracted her from the red flags waving in her head, but not quite.

Toby's hips were not too pleased with her sudden loss of focus, and he gently lowered her onto her back, cupping the back of her neck. He too was lathered in perspiration, his hair sodden even though it hadn't so much as touched the water. " That's because I'm on fire for you, Spencer."

Spencer's eyes drifted open as she craned her neck for Toby, and even though they shut again, they soon reopened, this time in complete distress.

"Toby!" she screeched, "I see flames! I see smoke!"

Lack of comprehension appeared to be his specialty today, for he only attempted to return to her lips.

Spencer pushed him away, sitting them both up. She hugged herself to him, her finger pointing past his shoulder, "No, baby! Fire! Our bathroom is on fire!"

Sure enough, to their sheer horror, as Toby turned around to see what his wife was dismayed over, the flames were visible, and they were eating up the towels and traveling to the cabinet like vines climbing a tower.

He moved quickly to evacuate he and Spencer out of the tub, shoving her behind him as he tried to use his jeans to put out the angry flames. This only worsened the intensity, and Spencer shrieked behind him, hiding her face in between his shoulder blades.

"Toby!"

"Spencer, you've got to get out of here! The baby! Call 911!"

The understanding that Spencer had exposed her lungs to smoke, and probably also the child she was carrying, the brunette made a bolt for the door, scampering to put on any clothing on the floor. As she made her way downstairs, she punched in the number for help on her cell phone, searching for the fire extinguisher they kept in the kitchen; as Spencer was prone to accidents on the rare occasions she cooked- which was why Toby had recently banned her from doing so. Locating it, she tore it from the wall and covered her mouth with her jacket sleeve as she ran back up the steps, offering aid to Toby.

Toby took the extinguisher from her, his waist wrapped in one of their remaining towels, and began fighting the flames. Noticing that Spencer was standing horrified in the doorway, though she was at least covering her nose and mouth, Toby snapped at her, competing with the exhaust of relief in combination with the crackling of the red, orange and yellow destroying their bathroom.

"Spencer! Get out! Get outside!"

She coughed, releasing her hand from her mouth to express her concern for her husband, not a fan of the proximity of the threat to his precious body.

"What about you? Toby!"

"I've got it under control!"

Just then a flame snapped, and Toby jumped backwards, shielding his eyes with his forearm, "Okay, so I don't have it under control! Did you call for the firetruck?"

"They're on their way! Toby, please!"

Toby was just as stubborn as she was, and he kept on spraying down as much as he could with the extinguisher, shaking his head at his worried wife.

"Spencer! Get the hell out!"

Spencer did as she was told, for the sake of the baby, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she stood in their front yard. Lights began descending upon the neighborhood, and before she knew it, men in their gear were running into the home with hoses and axes.

By now most of the neighborhood had arisen from their slumber, dinners or television marathons, and were gathering out on the street in curiosity. Spencer couldn't see anything; so she hoped that was a good sign. It didn't look like the fire had spread to the rest of their house, at least not yet, and she hadn't heard any windows blow out. Still, she was worried that the flames could have potentially engulfed her husband, and the only thing stopping her from racing back inside to check on his well being was the reminder that there was a baby inside her.

Adam had arrived first to her aid, throwing his jacket around her shoulders to help lessen her trembling, but she wasn't shaking violently because she was cold, and they both knew that. Regardless, her new friend wanted to help in any way he could, so he ushered her, though she was reluctant, over to the paramedic. A mask was placed over her to supply her with some of the oxygen she had been robbed of inside, and he held her hand as she breathed in and out deeply. Adam in return wrapped his arm around her as they sat on the edge of the ambulance, offering her calming words and reassuring her everything was going to be okay, that she had to keep breathing. While Spencer was appreciative of his support and care, she wanted Toby's arm around her more than anything. Leaning her head into Adam's shoulder, a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

After what felt like decades, Toby, along with two firemen, exited the house, the firemen clapping Toby on his back for his efforts and bravery; though it really was foolish of him to remain inside and Spencer was positively furious with him for doing so. As he too was guided over to the ambulance, the firemen winding up their hose, he exhaled in relief to see Spencer. Passing Adam a nod in token of appreciation, he took over from there, sliding up next to Spencer. She resisted him at first, still upset that her advisory to evacuate for his safety was like kicking a dead horse, but let herself sink into him. Lowering her own oxygen mask, she placed it over Toby's mouth, caressing his cheek. Toby took a few huffs before returning it back to Spencer, allowing the medics to treat the blisters and burns on his hands. His knuckles were raw, and Spencer could see the pain in his eyes as his hands were lathered in ointment and then bandaged. He didn't appear to have suffered any additional injuries, and both were thankful they had been so minor. He was lucky. They were both lucky.

"You know," offered one of the firemen, "Your quick response of action helped lessen the intensity of the flames. I don't think you could have extinguished this baby on your own, but my men and I are impressed. You're an idiot for staying inside as long as you did, but your adamancy is admirable. If you're ever looking for a job, we'd be happy to add you to our team. We're out a man after that fire on Fawn Creek last month, and your services, with proper training, could prove useful. Here's my card. Give us a call or stop in for a visit sometime.

We were able to put out the fire, and keep it from spreading. It was enclosed to just the upper restroom, and I'm afraid you'll need to do some serious repairs up them. I'd contact your insurance immediately and check to see if there is any coverage offered. The paramedics will finish assessing you here, and then our work here is done. I wouldn't recommend sleeping in your house tonight, not just yet. Give it a day to air out. Goodnight, and take care. And hey, let us know if you decide you find some interest in this position, son. We could use someone fearless like you on our team."

At least an hour had passed, and finally Spencer and Toby checked out okay from their screenings.

The two exchanged glances before bursting into laughter, marveling over just how wrong their evening had turned out to be.

"Always some force of nature against us, should have known," Spencer whispered as they packed their overnight bags and headed for Toby's truck.

"Yeah, I'm sure your parents will be thrilled to be notified that I set the bathroom on fire and nearly got their youngest daughter killed all because I was anticipating sex. I can see their faces now as they crack out their yardsticks and tell me to bend over. They might ban us from seeing each other again, you know."

Spencer kissed his bandaged knuckles, fastening herself into her seat. "Oh, they don't need to know the cause. That's classified confidential information, Mr. Cavanaugh. Besides, even if they do wish to ban our being together, it's no use. We're married. It doesn't work the same way it did when we were lovesick teenagers."

Toby grinned, "I think we should steer clear of candles for awhile. Just to be safe."

"I think we should steer clear of sex for awhile, too," Spencer teased.

Toby's face dropped, and he practically slammed on the breaks.

Her hands coming to clap against the dashboard, Spencer scolded him, though her tone was still playful, "Toby! I wasn't being serious! But if you continue to drive recklessly, I am investing in a padlock!"

Laughter died down, and Spencer's eyes grew heavy.

Both were exhausted at this point, so their drive to the local motel was clear of any speaking for the rest of the duration of the short trip. Spencer had curled up next to him on the bed as soon as their bodies had touched it, falling asleep immediately.

Toby, however, was wide awake, his mind pondering the fireman's offer. He was surprised he was even considering it. He was satisfied with his current job, and the freedoms it allowed. Plus, his boss was fond of him, and Toby had already established a reputable name for himself in the town's construction avenues. He was being Red Rovered from neighboring towns, his pay was good (at least enough to pay most of their bills), he had decent benefits...so why was his mind contemplating meeting with the chief of Rosewood's firefighting team?

What if he could provide more for Spencer? For their baby?

His heart just as aglow with love and passion for Spencer and their unborn child as the flames in their bathroom had been, Toby tucked the business card under his pillow, and rolled over to spoon his sleeping beauty, already settling on a decision.


	24. The Waiting Game

**Chapter 23: The Waiting Game**

* * *

At 14 weeks, the rate of expansion in Spencer's abdomen had increased slightly, but so had her desire to go in for another ultrasound. This would the the first that Toby would have the honor of attending, and while he was over the moon just looking at pictures of her last appointment, she knew that his excitement to be there in that moment, to hear their baby's heartbeat, to see he or she on the screen would be the home run for his father frenzy.

She didn't think it was possible to be more wired than she was in anticipation of the delivery of their creation of love, but Toby was on a roll proving her theories wrong lately. She'd been reading weekly updates for her subscription to an online forum for expecting mothers, but Toby went out and robbed every bookstore of practically every baby book ever authored. He was like an adult, male version of Matilda carting home so many books in not a red wagon, but the bed of his truck, stacking them on their nightstand as he read off every title to her with keen interest. His earnestness was enough to expand her heart like it was being inflated with helium, and she feared that if he continued to tip the adorable expectant daddy scale in his favor, someone could probably tie her to a string and she'd float away to join the likes of Amelia Earhart and never be seen again.

There was plenty more supplies of mania because he'd not only single handedly sculpted their baby kangaroo a rocking chair, dresser, and cradle, but he'd gone to the extreme measure of signing them up for a handful of parenting courses designed to not only inform those about to lose their free-of-child-virginity of how to care for a bald suckling that wasn't their grandparent, but to coin and nurture or renew the bonds of the two humans that created said life changer.

Spencer had been attending regular Yoga sessions, determined to remain progressive in her physical health, but Toby had arranged for them to begin frequent at a Unity for Expectant Couples yoga class that met two times a week. The gesture on its own was sweet, and slightly overboard; but not as receptive to Spencer's eye-bulging as Toby's memorization of the mission statement. He vowed, with much conviction, that they'd use these workshops of sweat to learn to prepare her mind, body, and soul for the delivery; that he could learn how to help her eliminate some of her stress and aches by joining her in this course. Spencer wasn't too sold, but when Toby finished with a hook, line, and sinker over how he'd come to master massages (though he was already a master with his hands), to comfort and please her, Spencer practically signed the contract with her blood. The first session had been a bit more intense than she had anticipated, for she'd been doing Yoga for years now. Perhaps it was the new instructor, or the sexual sounds that were filling the room, she just couldn't put her finger on it. Still, for Toby's sake, and for the sake of her morphing body, she was willing to give it another try.

She had to say his voluntary enrollment in a Parenting Class for New Parents was probably to thank the most for the hauling of her heart into his hands. She loved that Toby was so excited to be a father, and that unlike some of the numb-skulls she'd heard of in the world that could care less about their wife or girlfriend during this time, he was keeping himself up to date on everything pertaining to her pregnancy. Sometimes, however, he did get a bit overboard. She was supposed to be the primary highbrow here; not the other way around! Sometimes when she got home from classes, or he'd arrive home from work, he wouldn't so much as greet her before opening a can of pregnancy statistics on her. Had she not been carting around a child that depended on her for nutrients and development, she'd have been tempted to open a can of booze. Still, she knew he meant well, and she couldn't exactly file any complaints about his overpowering desire to be there for her and the baby.

Today they were kicked back at the clinic, waiting for their practitioner to perform an ultrasound. Normally, ultrasounds weren't performed so frequently unless under development or abnormalities in the pregnancy were suspected, but Spencer had insisted. The only problem was, these ultrasounds were costly, and with Spencer out of work for the remainder of her pregnancy to help lessen her stresses in order to avoid any potential problems, and Toby's place of employment not offering generous health benefits, they'd surely be suffering to make end's meet again. They were supposed to be saving up money for their baby, not shelling it out. Still, with Spencer's neurotic tendencies - only magnified by her pregnancy hormones - she would prefer dishing out paychecks if it meant they could ensure their baby was healthy at a more frequent rate than just three ultrasounds for the entire duration. Plus, their doctor was one to insist as well. And unlike most she had paid visits to, Dr. seemed to genuinely show concern for her patients rather than just grovel for money by insisting on extra procedures being performed.

If Spencer trusted this doctor, Toby wasn't going to argue; though there was a definite dent in his earnings. If this was what it took to make sure their baby remained healthy, then he was all for it. He wanted Spencer to stay healthy too, and for his wife and child limits did not exist no matter the holes in his pocket. Spencer and the baby were his primary concerns. Though so far, all of Spencer's lab results came back normal, indicating the she and their neonate were healthy as can be, to everyone's relief. It was a miracle considering all of the obstacles Spencer had already faced, how her body had been in so much danger with the break in, assault, and the fire.

This child must have been feeding on miracle grow or something; that or he or she was half god...which Spencer seriously considering somedays considering not only Toby's physical stature but his endurance.

"Did you know that our baby now has a liver and a spleen and is probably the size of a fist?" Spencer posed, not letting her eyes stray from the book she held above her head.

Toby glanced up at his wife, determined to outshine her fact with one he read from the book he had been engrossed in. "Huh. Well, did you know that our baby can release urine now due to the developing of her kidneys? He releases it into the surrounding amniotic fluids."

Spencer turned the page of her book, though she did grimace, "Thanks for that fine visual of our child swimming in their own body fluids, Toby. That's real sweet of you. Think maybe you could have kept that one to yourself? I've only just managed to become adjusted to the concept of another human feeding, sleeping, twirling, and growing inside of me. Besides, mister, we've had this discussion: it's going to be a he, not a she."

"According to this book, we could find out the gender of our baby today, you know, put this all to rest."

"Really? What else does this book tell you? Spare me anything that is going to cause me to paint these white tiles pretty colors, you know my gag reflex is on red high alert today."

Toby stood up, setting his book down on his seat. Bracing his hands on either side of his wife, he towered over her, pushing her book down so he could see her face.

"It says that our baby can suck its thumb..."

Spencer blinked up at him, toying with the chain he was wearing around his neck that held his work identification on end.

"That's a habit we'll be kicking from the get-go. You know my parents used to pour Tabasco sauce on my thumb so I wouldn't? Pretty sure we won't be taking such extreme measures, but I'd rather our little boy use a pacifier instead."

Toby grinned, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Little girl."

Spencer gently headbutted his forehead, leaving a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, "You know what my book says?"

"Hmm? That we're having a little princess who is currently peeing inside of you while sucking her thumb?"

Her finger took a jab at his chest before she used the book as a barricade between them, "Not quite, wise ass. Maybe my eyes can give you a little hint. What are they saying right now?"

After years of dating, Toby knew that look and he knew it well. Slumping back into his seat, he rolled his eyes playfully, "They say shut up and sit down, Toby."

"Such an obedient puppy."

"I'm not a puppy!" Toby argued, licking his thumb to turn the page.

Spencer peeked at him through the crack of her stomach and book, giggling under her breath. "You've sure been following me around and humping my leg like one. Remind me to pat your head when we leave. I'll even roll down the window on the drive home so you can stick your head out, howl at pedestrians and drool. Maybe if you behave I'll throw you a bone when we get home. But you have to earn it, Toby. Otherwise it's a rolled up newspaper for you."

If his ears were anything like the animal Spencer had just likened him to, his ears would have perched up. "What kind of treat?"

Licking her lips, Spencer directed a wink to his visual mailbox. "I'm sure I can think of something."

"You know she weighs about two ounces, too?" Toby kicked out, "Just thought I'd add that before you ask me to play the silent game."

Spencer placed a hand over her stomach, grinning down at it, "I know. But he..." she scoffed when Toby gave her a raised brow, "or SHE...weighs so much more in my heart than that already. Toby, I can't wait to meet our baby. I can't wait for you too, either."

He was about to respond when the door opened, and Dr. Barone entered, a chart in hand.

She greeted the couple with a bright smile, even though they were her last appointment of the day. That was something else that had sold Spencer; this woman was always putting on a smile and treating each patient like they were her first and most important regardless of how laborious her day had been. It spoke volumes to the kind of care she'd be providing when Spencer was in actual labor. She knew she - and her baby - were in very good hands, and it put her mind at ease.

"Good evening, Spencer, Mr. Cavanaugh. Brushing up on your parental research, I see? I'm impressed. Most parents that come in here don't even bother passing a look at the charts on our walls. Good to see you're educating yourselves so thoroughly."

Greeting her doctor with a polite smile, Spencer nodded her head at her husband, "While I'm usually pretty good at staying aboard the up to date train, Toby here has become a master in retrieving all kinds of helpful - and useless - information to prepare us. These days he's more of a walking encyclopedia than I am, which is unusual."

"You're one of the few lucky ones to have a husband willing to go above and beyond," she reminded Spencer, placing medical gloves over her freshly washed hands, "Just remember, and this is the best advice I can provide you with, while it's important to brush up on all you can and fill your minds with theorists and professionals telling you how your baby should be developing, milestones, and how you should parent, when it comes down to it? You won't have time to file through these books for the right how to's. You'll do exactly what your ancestors have been doing for centuries; relying on maternal and paternal instincts. Those instincts, to your surprise, are going to come naturally to you, and those I feel are better means of judgment calls than anything some man with a college degree that hasn't ever had a child of his own can tell you. You'll learn to tap into those instincts and rely on them; those, not parenting suggestions, are what will get you through even the toughest nights, my friends."

Considering Dr. Barone's words carefully, Toby shrugged his shoulders at Spencer, making yet another mental note to add to his pile of tips.

"Thank you," Spencer said, wincing a bit at the contact of the cool gel to her skin.

She looked to Toby and beckoned him forward with her finger, extending her hand for him to hold, "Come here, you've got front row tickets."

Toby didn't argue, and he was by her side within a heartbeat, his rough hand caressing her soft one.

Spencer couldn't take her eyes off of Toby as static visions of the child they'd created braced the sonogram screen, and Dr. Barone began giving him a map of their baby's progress and physical state. His face was illuminated like a Christmas tree, his eyes glistening with hot tears of pride. The smile he was wearing was big enough to cover his entire face it seemed, and he squeezed Spencer's hand tightly, communicating both verbally and through gestures how happy he was to finally see their baby up close.

"There's the heartbeat...sounds healthy. So, Mr. Cavanaugh, what do you think? Pretty cool stuff, right?"

Bobbing his head up and down, Toby batted at his eyes with his sleeve, grinning down at his wife, "The coolest thing I've ever seen. Spencer, that's our baby!"

Rubbing his knuckles with her thumb, Spencer averted her attention to the screen, her pearly whites on display. Toby's joy was contagious. "I know. Isn't it perfect? Hi jellybean."

Dr. Baron halted her examination, looking to Spencer and Toby with folded hands.

"Now, because of advancements in our equipment and technology, I can offer you something. Sometimes we find we can determine the sex of your child as early as 14 weeks, which is what you're currently at. Would you like to know the sex of your child today?"

Toby and Spencer's answers came out at once, conflicted.

"Yes!" Toby cried out.

"I think we should wait," Spencer insisted.

Both looked at each other, frowning.

Dr. Barone cleared her throat, moving to her computer to type in a few observations as standard protocol, "I'll give you two a can always come back at twenty weeks and we'll determine it then. Up to you. No pressure."

Toby's eyes were pleading with Spencer, but she wasn't going to budge.

"Toby, I've done my homework. While it's really neat that this can happen, it's not always possible for them to tell. I don't want us to be set up for disappointment and if the readings aren't accurate we go home and paint the nursery the wrong color, and then what? I think we should wait. I've spoken to a few people at Yoga class, and they've had mixed reviews. Some have said that the amnios indicated a girl, but they popped out a boy; some have said it was correct. What's a few more weeks? Let's give our little love bug time to grow some more, okay? I know you're disappointed but...please? Can we wait a little while longer?"

It took a few beats, but Toby eventually came to, nodding his head in surrender, though he sighed sadly. "Alright. We'll wait."

Cupping his face, Spencer pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "I know you're disappointed, but I promise we'll find out next time."

He gazed down at her full of love, not disappointment, stroking a piece of hair from her eyes, "I've come to learn that often the best things are worth the wait."

Pressing her lips against his ear as not to uncloak their bargain of what would go down as soon as they were in the comfort and privacy of their home, Spencer whispered into Toby's ear.

"Looks like you get that special treat after all. And that? I promise that will also be so worth the wait, Mr. Cavanaugh."

Though the walls were asylum white, Toby's face certainly added a lovely shade of red to the room.

But little did Spencer know, Toby had a surprise of his own...however, given the new plan for their night, he figured that could wait another day.

With her mood swings lately, there was no determining how she would react, and he had a feeling she wouldn't exactly be jumping for joy.

Spencer had been in such a light, happy, playful mood today. Why would he want to ruin it?

**Dun...dun...DUN! I hope this chapter was to your liking. I know many have you have expressed your anxiousness over this chapter. Can you just envision Toby weeping happily at an ultrasound? Because I can. COUGHMAKEITHAPPENMARLENEKING COUGH .**

**Thanks for your reviews, guys. You're all amazing. **

**Don't forget to fill that pretty little review box below so I know you're still on board and not fast asleep ;) **

**STAY STRONG TONIGHT! TRUE LOVE CONQUERS ALL! **

**Viva la spoby. **


	25. As Stable As Toothpicks

**Chapter 24: As Stable As Toothpicks**

* * *

Light, tropical, easy going music sprouted through the two-story Cavanaugh home. The shaggy retro carpet left by previous owners almost felt like sand between Spencer's toes, save for the irritation it was causing her bare skin. Sitting cross-legged, her back straight as if it was being held up by a string (her posture had never been compromised before her pregnancy, and she sure as hell wasn't going to slump now despite the added weight and tension), Spencer closed her eyes and tried to imagine the unfolding of a beach before her.

It wasn't working very well. Despite an acapella rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow swimming around her ears, the other sounds being produced in the dubbed nursery-to-be were completely counteracting what she was trying to will her mind to do. Her eyes slowly opened, and she was returned quickly to the reality that the room for their bundle of joy was still unfinished. Still, if she squinted hard enough, the botanical tint of the walls could almost pass for the shade of the ocean, and Toby shirtless in his work jeans could almost be morphed into shirtless Toby in swim trunks. The rustling from the life-size package Toby was unpacking almost favored the sound of hula skirts at an island luau.

Oh, how she wished she could smell coconut oil often associated with summer trips to the beach, but to her displeasure, all she could smell was the pungent invasion of metal coming from Toby's propped open toolbox; the sweats from his hands lingering there like leftovers. She wondered if he'd notice if she packed some potpourri in there overnight to air it out a bit, and seriously contemplated doing so. Maybe she should hang bags of the mixture of herbs, spices and flowers all over the room; despite the constant shampooing of the carpet, it still smelled like something god awful. This room was the last of the rooms upstairs left with carpeting; her office, Toby's man-cave the bathrooms and their master bedroom all stripped of the outdated material to make way for the beautifully done, wooden flooring Toby had slaved over.

The sound of metal being flung about as Toby dumped the contents of the box at large onto the floor awakened Spencer from her thoughts.

Rubbing her protruding belly habitually, she reassessed the scene.

Toby had completely compacted the box that was once half-Spencer-size and was now tucking his pocket-knife back into his jeans. While her husband was deprived of a shirt (for her viewing pleasure) , his face was clothed in a series of wrinkles from his forehead down to the slight pout in his plump lips. He was rubbing the back of his neck like he often did when he was puzzled, his eyes saddled to the mess he'd created when he'd turned the box into a dump truck.

If he wasn't so adorable, Spencer would have scolded him for such maltreatment of the kit. Still, it didn't look like there were any chips in the smooth wood as her hand reached out to stroke one of the long, thin side boards for the crib they were determined to assemble.

Maybe it was premature to assemble the crib, or any baby furniture, before the room was finished, but when Spencer's eyes were blessed with the view of it through a window the other day while shopping with Emily and Maya, she was immediately married to the idea of this being her child's sleeping-soul-mate. She'd snatched it at the Pottery Barn that very same day, splurging more than she had given herself in allowance. It was worth it, however. It was so worth it. The off-cream, Darcy fixed crib was perfect. It wasn't just the classy appearance that had seduced her; it was all the features included. The platforms of the mattresses could be easily adjusted to conform to the needs of their baby as he or she grew. It could also easily be morphed into a toddler bed and eventually a queen sized bed, so she and Toby wouldn't have to worry about updating. What was the most appealing was the promise that it had been tested thoroughly to meet the safety standards set out by the Cribs and Cradles Regulations of America. She'd only have the best for her baby, and online ratings showed that this was the monster of all baby cribs.

Of course, now that she was looking at all the pieces that had been dumped on the floor, she wasn't so convinced. She fished out the manual, flipping open to the first page of the novel featuring six languages.

Everything looked so...complex. How difficult could it be, right?

"Is this a crib kit of a Rubik's Cube?"

Always one to keep his cool despite the mentally maladjusted tendencies of his other half, Toby simply began sorting the pieces by size and appearance.

"You're the one that insisted on bringing it home, don't look at me. Fear not. I am professional Rubik's Cube cracker; I'll have this issue resolved in no time. All we need is my toolbox, the kit, and some patience. We just need to sort the pieces by size. See these? These are the side boards, those we can put together. Try not to lose any of the little pieces in the seaweed that is our carpet, which by the way, I will be pulling up next week."

Spencer stroked one of the side boards he'd laid down by her knees, turning the instruction booklet every which way until it looked less like hieroglyphics and more like English.

"Let's see what the instructions say to do first," she suggested.

Toby rolled his eyes. What was it with women needing to go by the book all the time? He didn't want to toot his own horn, but he'd been building things since he was a little guy. He was pretty sure he could assemble this thing without guidance from a manual with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.

"I think we can manage without them. I recommend we begin with these two end pieces and then we'll add the side boards."

Spencer didn't seem to have the same amount of faith in his hands as he did.

"Toby!" she scolded, the vein on her forehead making a Harry Potter cameo, "Assembling a standard baby crib isn't something to be taken lightly! Now is not the time to indulge in your ego and ignore the instructions crucial to ensuring that this baby has a safe place to rest! We need to be thorough; we're following every single step and we are checking it twice! Your recommendations fall second hand to the requirements as put out by the manufactures and their supervising national standard wrist-slaps."

His eyes once again behaving like a ride at a state-park as they shuttled upwards, Toby extended his palm to Spencer, nodding towards his toolbox. "Hand me my screwdriver, will you?"

Keeping her eyes focused on all of the bold, capitalized warnings on the page, Spencer handed Toby the first thing her fingers wrapped around.

As Toby grumbled that he'd handed her the hammer instead of the screwdriver, Spencer anxiously gnawed on her thumb nail - which, by the power of her prenatal vitamins, had been growing like a weed.

"There's so many precautions! I'm going to have to make sticky notes and post them on the wall...regulation after regulation...oh! Toby! Did you inspect the crib set for any pieces unaccounted for? Any sharp edges? There aren't any choking hazards, are there? Oh god!"

Toby fiddled with one of the round washers, passing Spencer a look that begged her to simmer down her excessively active bundle of nerves that panned out every possible scenario out there. If it was true that stress subtracted a year from life, then Spencer would surely only live to be fifty at this rate. He knew this was who he'd married, and he'd married her fully aware of her inability to pacify her irrational and rational fears, but lately these fears had been ignited to a whole other degree. The doctors were already warning her that her blood pressure would misbehave if she didn't find a way to find peace of mind. Yesterday, she'd had a full blown anxiety episode over the use of scented feminine hygiene items, such as bubble bath. Toby had drawn her a nice bath to help lessen her thoughts over her college workload this semester, preparing it with _Spuma Di Champagne_ - a bath foam that provided a sophisticated, exotic aroma that reminded Spencer of the countryside of Italy she'd visited many years ago with her parents and Melissa. Her refreshing soak ended earlier in occurrence than anticipated. She wasn't even in there for three minutes before she'd shot right up, shouting at Toby. Apparently her sitting in a tub with scented bubbles increased the risk of getting a feminine infection, and how could Toby be so clueless?

Spencer had purged their bath vanity of anything heavenly and replaced bottles of bubbles and wash and perfumes with unscented, organic products. She was determined to go Au Naturale for the remainder of her pregnancy. Toby thought it was slightly overboard.

"Do the do's, don't do the don'ts; it's simple. These handbooks are designed to provide excess mental pressure. I already told you, I've got this."

Helping his pregnant wife to her swelling feet, Toby propped up two of the boards and held one up for Spencer to balance, "I know this is usually a two-person job, but you just stand there and continue looking both adorable and mesmerized as I transform these sticks into a vintage cream, heirloom inspired lacquer coated masterpiece of stability."

After a few minutes of Toby doing what he does best, and Spencer every so often squawking at him for not having the handbook pasted to his eyelids and using it as his Bible, the crib was well on its way towards completion. Toby was finishing up the last few steps.

Spencer, who was no stranger to being hijacked by hormones, was suddenly sporting an invisible foam finger and Team Toby the Toolman jersey. She smirked slightly, her arms enclosed across her chest - which had gone up a cup size, to her joy.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a very handy man to have around? Aside from my protests and the brief, almost useless assistance my eyes provided, you single-handedly assembled our baby's crib in less than an hour. I'm thoroughly impressed. Maybe even a little turned on."

Toby beamed with pride, dusting off his hands as he put the finishing touch on coordinating every piece of the crib, with minimum help from the booklet Spencer had shoved down his throat like a door-to-door-saleswoman.

He supplied her with a modest shrug as his arms wrapped around her from behind, his lips seeking permission to pay a visit to her shoulder around her tank top.

"It was nothing."

The entire process would have gone faster if Spencer came with a mute button, but he wasn't about to make that comment public.

Spencer's change of heart started to poke through, and she frowned as Toby's lips left kisses along her skin up to her neck, her attention averted back to the crib standing in the center of the room.

"Are you sure this crib is safe? Maybe I should have waited. Maybe I should have just had you hatch out a crib of your own careful creation instead of relying on a factory of workers we're not even remotely acquainted with to parent a place that our child is going to spend hours resting their head in."

"Spencer, you said it yourself: this entire engineering process and the aftermath had to be put through rigorous testing by national infant safety standards. Don't doubt the manufactured stability of it now. The wood they used? It's known for being exceptionally sound in strength, in durability. If you gave birth to a hippo, it'd still hold. The way it was crafted with the veneers only ensures that this thing was crafted to hold integrity. The railings are within the recommended measurements; we won't have to worry about our baby's head getting stuck. Even the railing is coated for teething. The mattress settings are ideal. It's solid. I promise you, our baby will be safe and feel like royalty snoozing in this thing."

Spencer sighed in defeat. "I know, but my heart has reached full capacity of trust in your crafting. Who better to take our child's maximum safety into consideration than his Daddy?"

Bringing his roughed, dry hand up to tickle Spencer's stomach under her tank, Toby chuckled. "How many times do I have to repeat this? We're having a girl."

She giggled along with him, swaying a bit in his embrace, her lips nuzzling against his arm as it came around to latch onto her left shoulder across her chest.

"At this point, all that matters is that this bowling ball travels down the lane safely and if he or she comes out with ten fingers and ten toes. Prince or Princess, I just want our little bean to be healthy."

Toby hummed in agreement against her cheek, relishing the moment.

Bobby McFerrin's _Don't Worry, Be Happy _encased the room as the couple stood and admired Toby's completed task in prep for their infant.

"As much as I love you being home with me today...you've never been one to play hooky...why aren't you at work? You usually work Mondays; those are your crunch days. Did your boss give you the day off to spend at home with your needy wife and her kooky commands?"

Discontinuing his synchronized whistles to the song, Toby let his eyes shut tightly. He knew Spencer wasn't going to like the answer to her inquiry, but he couldn't keep this secret from her any longer. It was building up in him like a bladder that was about to burst.

"Not...not exactly."

There was a sudden drop of temperature in the room as Spencer turned around in his arms, playfully letting her palms sail across the definitions of his chest, "Did you call in sick? Because the only one with a fever right now is me...and that's all thanks to the 4D showing of your abs mixed with your five o'clock shadow."

Toby refused to meet her eyes, or her lips as she stood on her toes. He drew back slightly, sighing.

"I uh...you see...I don't work for Troy and Butch anymore."

Spencer cluelessly rubbed her nose against his, her fingers tangling into his hair in an attempt to get him to kiss her. "Okay? Did they resign? Are you under new management?"

"No...and yes. Under new company too. And occupation."

Toby winced, bracing himself for the hurricane of emotions Spencer would surely release on him as if she was the reincarnation of Thor, Aeolus, Zeus and Hera. He wasn't sure what would be left in the path of that emotional destruction and he didn't exactly have a first aid kit to offer aid to her heart or to his eardrums.

Her hands dropping from his chest like waterfalls, Spencer adjusted her playful temperament. She didn't kick, hit or scream.

"You...you got fired?"

"No. I put in my two weeks of resignation last week."

Spencer blinked, her fingers coming up to tickle her forehead as she processed his words, "How will we..."

Toby shook his head, "Everything's taken care of. We'll have health benefits, the bills will be taken care of, we can finish purchasing stuff for the nursery, we can pay back some of our debts to your parents."

"You quit your job," Spencer repeated, "And you took on a new one? Is this...another construction job? I don't understand! I thought things were going so well for you. You love your boss! You love your job!"

"I wouldn't exactly call it love. Spencer, do you ever wake up and feel like there's more you could be doing for the world? Like you have so much more to offer?"

Spencer's shoulders rolled. "Sure. I could easily take on Presidency, but I know that's never going to happen."

Toby took both of her hands in his, his eyes pleading with hers passionately as his words flew out, hitting Spencer like she was target at the batting cages.

"Spencer, it can happen! All you have to do is believe. That's why I did this...that's why I took up the Fire-chief's offer. I enlisted. You're looking at Rosewood's newest addition to the fire department."

"Okay, who swapped your Frosted Flakes for Tinkerbell dust? Suddenly you've gone Peter Pan and I am not as easily swayed as Wendy and -" Her mouth ran dry as her ears caught up to her mouth, "You did WHAT?!"

Spencer tried to pry her hands from Toby's hold, but Toby was stuck on soliciting her support. "Things are going to be so much better from here on out, I promise you!"

Her anger must have provided her strength with a pump of steroids, because Spencer managed to break free of Toby, her feet reversing as her eyes sank in hot tears of horror. Spencer wasn't dreaming about a beach anymore...she felt like she was suddenly left for dead in the arctic. She wasn't being kissed by the sun, her toes, nose and fingers were being subjected to frost bite.

"Better? What about the stability of a work schedule, Toby? What about birthdays, Christmases, school plays that you'll somehow wind up missing because some tool set her cheating husband's bed on fire? What about countless nights where I sleep in our bed alone, praying that you come home to me in the morning? What about this baby that we created? The one I'll be bringing into the world shortly? Is she going to have to stomach a memorial service for her father after he's thrown into more than he can handle because he wanted to play hero? You think things will magically be transformed into sunshine and rainbows as you pump water from a fire hydrant and, sweep up a garage, wax down the truck, climb ten stories to rescue a blue-haired lady's feline? How about the first time you come home with injuries and a broken spirit? Or maybe you're under the assumption things will just be peachy when we're watching the news at another dinner you ran out on, only to discover that while your comrades and clients made it out of a raging-beast, you did not? Are we just supposed to watch helplessly as your final moments are broadcast on the ten o'clock news? Yeah, Toby, I am positively over the moon after surfing on a rainbow right now!"

Her feet transitioned from backwards step of disbelief and devastation into forward gallops towards the door fueled by complete outrage. As she exited stage left, a curtain fell over Toby's heart.

Maybe the crib he had just put together was stable, but a film of he and Spencer's marriage was showcasing in his head, and it had completely collapsed until each piece was nothing more than a toothpick; both of their hearts torn open in the debris. Toby knew how to solve a Rubik's Cube, but he had no idea how he was going to fix _this. _

The CD Toby had put in was now skipping, and his love for Bobby's happy-go-lucky tune sounded like screeching tires. A few last lyrics were received to his ears before Toby put a halt to it entirely with his fist.

_Don't worry,_

_be happy._

_Don't worry,_

_It will soon pass...whatever it is._

_Be happy. _

* * *

**Whoa! It's been at least a century since I've updated this! I am terribly sorry. To say it's been a month is an understatement. Anyways, I have the next two chapters pretty much mapped out, and I am soooooooooo excited to share them with you because I think you'll definitely need to wear head gear and a seat-belt! Go ahead and make those predictions, you know I always love reading them. **

**You are all exceedingly wonderful. My thank you's are never enough, but know I bow in gratitude (or at least drag my fingers across the keyboard sobbing in thanks). **

**Next chapter up VERY soon :) Please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions in the review box! I don't know if you're familiar with the song I used this chapter, but I totally suggest you give it a listen. You can't listen and not bob your head along. Plus, it's a wee bit ironic with the contents of this chapter, or the end of. "I give you my phone number, when you worry, you call me"...if Bobby's got a Worry-Free-Hotline, he better give Toby his phone number! Someone's just jumped into the fire...and I don't think he and Spencer will be making Smores with those flames anytime soon. **

**...Or will they? Guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out. ;) xo. **

** * Viva La Spoby * **


	26. For Jellybean

**** Please see the AN note at the end of this chapter :) Enjoy! Welcome back to NWHE! **

**Chapter 25: For Jellybean**

* * *

It was the night before Toby's first official day on the job, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring; except for the altitudinous mechanical heartbeat of Toby's great, great grandfather's hand-carved clock down in the foyer of the Cavanaugh house. Its worn mechanical gears loved to produce chimes to not only inform the residents of the hour at hand, but of its presence - typically unheard during the day due to Spencer and Toby's work schedules. When the two hands reached a consensus, the bong vibrating through the halls until it reached Spencer and Toby's bedroom, it awakened Spencer to her senses.

Something wasn't right.

The otherwise light air of spring was suddenly overweight, and Spencer's sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach managed to override her debility. Spencer hadn't recalled falling asleep in the bath tub, their roof certainly was free of any leaks, and she definitely didn't think she'd cried that many tears over both Toby's new embracing of being a service to those in emergencies, therefore putting his own life at risk daily and him lodging in the guest bedroom following their blow out. But for some reason, her lower half felt water-logged. Wondering if perhaps those two bottles of water before bed were the cause of the dampness, Spencer moved to turn on the bedside lamp.

She wasn't prepared for the scene she received. Reaching down, she brought her hands down to the sheets hugging her waist. As she did so, the sheets behaved as a sponge, revealing the color of the liquid; crimson. She gasped out in horror as she peeled back three layers of blankets, her breathing as affected as her eyes in capacity.

She hadn't wet the bed, and she wasn't soaking in water. Raising her fingers up to her eyes as they adjusted from shock, Spencer came to the heartbreaking realization she was bathing in her own blood. A gasp of disbelief escaped her lips, and her lungs felt just as constricted as her feet; as her throat.

Utter terror mummified her body and soul as she continued to gape at the crime scene in her bed. The red liquid was seeping into the mattress, and she could hear droplets introducing themselves to the flooring below.

Suddenly, the light fizzled, going out and leaving her blanketed in tenebrosity. She could feel the bed shift around her ankles, a pair of familiar eyes glowing up at her eerily. Those eyes and those pearly whites smiling hauntingly at her from her legs grew closer, illuminating as Spencer's eyes adjusted to the murk that had become her bedroom. If the eyes and the teeth weren't enough of a flashlight, then that unmistakable bundle of blonde locks that shimmered under the waves from the full moon were a dead giveaway of the source.

It was Alison.

Alison's mouth moved, rotted around the rims. Her voice was muted by the rushing of blood through Spencer's ears.

The wound at Spencer's abdominal area was like that of a can-opener puncture. It was as if every ounce of blood Spencer had in her body was cascading out now, like angry waterfalls. The wound to her body was nothing compared to what unfolded before her chocolate eyes next. Still mute to Alison's voice, but remarkably able to hear the wails of an infant, Spencer watched on helplessly as Alison tugged an baby from Spencer's body. She passed it to the decorative pillows Spencer had kicked to the end of the bed, swaddling it in the nearest blanket. Then, the deceased blonde yanked on the umbilical cord that was the last bridge between Spencer and her baby. Alison promoted one last villainous grin before cutting it with a knife. She stood up as Spencer screamed in agony, the newborn in her arms. Using her free hand to bring the hood of her cherry red jacket over her head, Alison raised a finger to her lips, before exiting.

Spencer could feel herself screaming, using every single hint of strength remaining in her, but nothing came out. Suddenly, the bed was scooting towards the life size window, the feet of the huge oak frame penetrating the floorboards like nails on a chalk board. Through the window, as Spencer was forced to look on, Toby stood in the front yard, adorned in all black. He raised a hand, gesturing the removal of his head with a finger dragging across his throat, before turning around and getting into a silver Rolls Royce. As he revved the engine, Spencer grasped at her chest, the pain in her heart too much to handle.

That's when she saw more blood escaping her body; spewing out from her chest now. Her own fingers were the culprit, digging into her flesh until they clasped her beating heart, withdrawing it from the bank of her body. She watched on in a coma of inability as her hand held the beating heart, before tossing it out of the window. It landed on the windshield of the Rolls Royce Toby had entered, his windshield wipers activating and tossing the heart into oblivion, before the car descended into the dark of the night.

Perched on the window sill were two birds; a falcon and an owl. The choice between the protector and bringer of death was predetermined, and both birds ejected from the window down to chase the car. Only one came back; the owl.

Spencer's limp heart between it's claws, it floated above Spencer, dropping it back into her palms.

A voice called for her in the distance, but Spencer couldn't move.

_Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong._

"Spencer? Spencer! Spencer!"

Warm marine eyes hijacked the horror scene before her, and Spencer could feel his comforting hands on her shoulders.

"Spencer?"

His voice sounded so melodic; so holy.

Unexpectedly, Spencer was ejected from this nightmare and parachuted back to reality as Toby lingered over her. His eyes were pooled with concern, and he was seated next to her on the bed. The bed that was completely dry, void of her blood. The sheets pooled around her ankles were still asylum white. Despite having been completely crippled by fear and shock in her nightmare, real life Spencer was very much able to use her limbs; and her feet and fists were bruising her befuddled, doting husband who was trying in vain to pacify her.

She could see the little bump on her stomach rise and fall in synchronization with her chest as she heaved through her mental and emotional disorientation. Toby's infringing on her night terror was welcomed, but the emotional scar it had left on Spencer's heart - that was very much still thankfully intact - was unwished for.

As soon as her struggles lessened, Toby began working at dabbing away the spewing of tears on her face with the pads of his thumbs.

"It was just a bad dream, Spence," he cooed, though the reflection in his eyes looked just as alarmed as Spencer was feeling at the moment, "You're safe. I've got you. I've got you."

Spencer all but charged into his arms, her weight nearly knocking them both over like bowling pins, her bump brushing against Toby's torso. She gripped Toby as if he was her only lifeline, as if his hold could supply her the oxygen she needed. But even his supply of comfort was limited. He hadn't witnessed what she had, dream or no dream. He hadn't watched her dead-ex-bestfriend lacerate Spencer's womb and ransack her organs and skin until she burglarized Spencer's body of the baby she and Toby had lovingly created. He hadn't observed Spencer's heart being the next in the purging.

Her trembling hands gripped the shoulders of Toby's long-sleeved sleep shirt. Her gasping mouth pressed against the skin between his left shoulder and his neck.

"T-t-t-t-Toby..."

"It was a dream, baby. It was just a bad dream. You're okay."

His shoulder was blistered with her tears within moments.

Asking the distraught beauty if she was alright right now was pointless; it was obvious she was still pretty shaken. Toby continued to hold her to him, stroking her tangles of hair.

When at last her voice was hoarse from her sobs, Spencer reclined back onto her pillows, sniffling as she rubbed over her face sleepily.

"What time is it?"

Toby released a slight yawn. "Half past five. Do you want me to go put on a fresh pot of coffee before I leave?"

He reached out to tenderly stroke her cheek with his knuckles. His eyes were as colossal as a begging puppy's, and Spencer knew that if she didn't look away soon, she'd break down again.

Spencer shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. She recoiled from his touch, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. She rotated her back to her husband.

"No. That won't be necessary. I'm not going to classes today."

"But, don't you have a shift later?"

Bitterly, she answered. "I terminated my duties yesterday."

"No two week notice? How come you didn't tell me you wanted to leave? Since when don't we talk about these things?"

"Since you decided it was acceptable protocol to enlist in life-altering decisions without confiding in your wife. What do I need a job for now, anyways? You're the breadwinner. I'm merely the bystander."

Toby groaned in frustration, his fingers massaging his temple. "Spencer..."

"Just go, Toby. Your new number one duty calls. Don't let me be the reason for your tardiness on your first day. I'm fine."

"No, I don't think you are. Please don't speak like that. You know you are my top priority; nothing comes before you. I'm doing this for you and the baby."

Spencer threw back the duvet, shuffling to her feet.

"I'm going to take a shower."

"Do you need any help?" Toby offered, noticing her lack of coordination.

Spencer shot him a glare in the doorway, "I'm pregnant...what, you insinuating that I wasn't able enough to make a joint decision that has an immense effect on our future - of our child's future - wasn't enough for you? Now you're implying I'm not capable of maintaining my own personal hygiene? I'm sorry for being the tin cans strung along to the back of your getaway car as you head full throttle without a seat belt onto a highway of selfish, reckless aspirations. Don't let me become the anchor now too."

The door rattled as she slammed it with full force, her body sinking to the floor in the bathroom. She rubbed her baby bump affectionately as her body experienced an aftershock of sobs.

His heart being squeezed like a tub of toothpaste, Toby stood outside of their master bathroom door, his hand halting his instinct to knock. He lowered his hand, before his head followed, feeling very much like he'd been kicked with a ball made of lead. The squeaking of his sneakers as he left their quiet house was no match for the sound of Spencer's heartbreaking sobs upstairs being carried through the vents.

* * *

"Wait a minute," Emily paused, dipping her salted chip into the cup of salsa the four girls were sharing later that afternoon, "Ali came in and took your baby?"

"Yeah," Spencer exhaled, mutilating her straw, "It was like she was Laura Croft: Womb Raider 2.0. I'm surprised she didn't go Edward Cullen and chew her way through the umbilical cord."

Aria placed a hand over Spencer's sympathetically.

Emily squinted at her friend, cocking her head to the side. "Did you tell Toby about it?"

"I didn't bother. He's been distant lately."

"He's distant because you've been pushing him away like a medley of vegetables on your dinner plate you know you ought to eat."

Hanna bobbed the lemon in her Pepsi around with the end of her straw. "I can't believe Toby's going to be a runner up for the calendars this year. It just doesn't seem likely that he'd flea market his tool kit and truck to slide down a pole."

All three girls blinked at the blonde.

"What?"

"He's not a stripper, Han," Aria snorted.

"The term is exotic dancer," Hanna corrected, "Great. Now thanks to you, I have the unwanted image of Toby sliding up and down a stripper pole while women double his age fill his speedo with crisp dollar bills and dentures. I don't think I can eat this burrito."

The girls sat in a crowded food court at the Rosewood Mall, their bags of therapy concealing their feet below the table as they munched on their assortment of lunches. Aria - of course - had opted for some little hole in the wall that hashed out tofu like ice-cream scoops. Emily had settled for Sbarro pizza and breadsticks. Spencer decided that despite her lack of appetite, she should probably not be the only one in the group running on an empty stomach - especially being the pregnant one- so she settled for a cup of soup and a blackberry smoothie. Hanna on the other hand, had taken full advantage of the cheap price of Taco Bell; purchasing a burrito and nachos. As usual, her eyes were bigger than her stomach, so the other girls munched like rabbits on her otherwise wasted chips.

Biting open a packet of hot sauce, Hanna drowned her burrito in the thick spicy liquid, before reading the label.

"Spencer, I know you're worried about Toby, but he's got the best reason in the world to come home everyday, alright?" she offered, shoving a large bite into her eager mouth, "Besides, can him riding around on a fire-truck shirtless in suspenders really be all that bad?"

Spencer hiccuped. "You're objectifying my husband, and I don't know how I feel about that. But I think you've given me hiccups. Or the baby. I think the baby has hiccups."

"My Dad used to scare me to rid me of mine," Hanna chortled, "Just look at Aria's leggings."

Glaring at Hanna, Aria shook her head in disagreement. "If this baby was able to see through Spencer's stomach, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be my leggings giving it a fright; it'd be all that junk you're shoveling into your mouth."

Aria reached over and placed her palm over Spencer's stomach.

"I know that you being pregnant isn't an invitation for petting and words from the peanut gallery, but all that stress can't be good for your baby. It can probably feel it. I read that your baby senses more than you think, and copious amounts of stress can actually puncture their health and growth."

"Yeah," Hanna agreed, "Your baby is going to come out huffing and puffing like DMX!"

"Thanks, Hanna."

Emily interjected wisely, always one to see both sides. "Spencer, if it's deteriorating you that much, you really should just talk to him. He's heard you out, but have you listened to him? Maybe you can stop using your pillow as an emotional boomerang to vent and let Toby in."

Spencer was about to argue, but Hanna began flailing about.

"Did you find the lucky golden ticket to Willy Wonka's Slave Factory of Cavities or do you have a spider dancing with your spine?" Aria asked, clearly amused by her blonde best friend's freakish behavior.

"Hanna, the Harlem Shake went out of style five minutes after hitting the internet years ago," Emily laughed.

"No! Look!"

Hanna held out the hot sauce packet she'd just drained, waving it about. "See here? Toby is going to be just fine! Look! The taco sauce packet says so! Everyone knows that Taco Bell sauce packages are the new fortune cookies! They're far more wisdomical!"

"You're basing your predictions of my husband's life expectancy off a packet of sauce? Hanna, I've seen bathroom stall graffiti provide more insight than that. All that says is O.K. That could mean anything!"

"Besides," Aria laughed, "It's full of wisdom. Wisdomical isn't an established word."

"Yeah, well, my heels are about to make an establishment on your ass, short stuff! At least one of us is trying to comfort Spencer before she starts eating her fears and becomes a manatee!"

She giggled, clapping her hands together in clueless enthusiasm, "Oh! I could become a shrink!"

Pushing her tray away from her, Spencer rubbed at her belly with a frown. "Could we not poke fun at my size? A little sensitive here on the emotional spectrum."

Emily stomped on Hanna's foot, scowling at her friend in disapproval. "You look beautiful, Spencer. You're glowing."

Spencer took a gulp of her smoothie, licking her lips.

"Why does everyone say that? The only thing I feel like I'm emanating right now is the breakouts I thought I'd skipped in my pre-teen years! You know the actual cause of pregnancy glow is just the result of oil glands increasing secretion."

Aria nodded, impressed, but not surprised. "Who needs a search engine when we've got you? Looks like someone's been reading the What to Expects in those books Toby brought you home. You're always on top of your research, Spence. This baby is going to come out of the womb with ballet slippers and books in tote."

Spencer momentarily melted at the vision of Toby dozing off in the rocking chair in the baby room. Just a few weeks ago, he'd purchased some baby books - both for he and Spencer- and she'd stumbled upon him reading them one evening after class. He'd fallen asleep halfway through, and Spencer had never found him more precious than in that very moment. She was pretty certain he was the only male on the planet who didn't need to be asked to read such things; he was genuinely excited to obtain knowledge about their little guy or girl. It made Spencer's heart swell with pride.

Shaking out of her thoughts, Spencer let her chin rest on her palm, picking at her foam cup of now chilled-from-neglect-soup. "I just wish I knew what research suggested about dreams."

Aria chomped on a chip, her brow creasing as she pondered over the details Spencer had spilled again.

"I think your dream holds significant symbolism. You know, I took a summer class at Hollis once. It focused on subconscious thoughts; we did this huge section on dream interpretations. I've pretty much become the mobile dream-decoder since. You said that Ali broke the umbilical cord...the cord supplies your baby with nutrients...it keeps you two connected. It's a life line. Spencer, what if that wasn't symbolic of bad things for your baby? What if it was about Toby? The cord could mean your reliance on Toby for support, for love, for comfort. He's your life line. You're worried that will be cut with his new job. A Rolls Royce? It means new opportunities coming in your direction. Let's see...birds? Generally known to be bad omens, or seers of the future. To see a falcon means protection, assistance. Owls are not only full of wisdom, and untold secrets, but they're messengers. They're said to be bringers of...death."

"He's going to be fine," Emily sighed, reaching across the table to take Spencer's hand in hers, "It was just a bad dream."

"A bad dream? That's the understatement of the century. It's a nightmare that seems to be coming true," Spencer whispered, "What if that owl Harry Pottered Toby's life back to me? What if something happens to Toby while he's on duty?"

Tears gathered in Spencer's eyes. She brought a hand to her chest to control her breathing; knowing a panic episode would put her child under distress.

What if Aria was right? What if this wasn't an omen for their baby? What if it was about Toby? Was that what the vision of Ali was trying to tell her?

* * *

That very same night, Hanna, Aria and Emily hovered over Spencer's sink, alternating between washing their faces and brushing their teeth in preparation for sleep. They'd all silently agreed to stay the night with Spencer to keep her company - and sane.

"Poor Spence," Aria sighed, dabbing at her face with her washcloth, "This whole situation is just tearing her apart inside. I'm worried about her, and the baby. There's got to be something we can do to help. I can't stand to see her like this. She's runner up for a padded room in Radley."

"I can try to talk to Toby," Emily offered, rinsing her mouth, "But I don't know how much it will actually be of assistance. Once Toby's got his mind set on something, he'd pretty stubborn. He's just like Spencer. His reasons are noble, but maybe he doesn't see the bigger picture."

"Or maybe he does," Hanna piped in, pulling her hair into a loose bun atop her head, "That's why he did this. The benefits, the pay, the security. Toby's got a heart of gold, he keeps it caged up building people shelves and stapling down roofs. Now he actually gets to put that desire to do a good deed to use, first hand."

"Wow," Emily blinked, "Are you actually siding with Toby for once?"

Hanna shrugged, exhaling. "I'm putting aside my own father abandonment issues to look at this from the outside. It seems like Toby's just making the sacrifices he feels he needs to make for his family. Remember how those one old dudes used to say the world was flat? Well, maybe right now for Spencer, the world is flat. Maybe if we got her to talk to Toby, and they could take turns playing reasoning-table-tennis, she'd see that the world is a cube."

"Sphere, Hanna," Aria giggled, hugging her friend, "But that's very philosophical of you. I am proud. I say we invest in a dream catcher for Spence. It can only help."

Emily bobbed her head up and down.

"Wrong shape or not, she makes a valid point. One of us needs to talk some perspective into Spencer, and one of us needs to do the same with Toby. Their hearts are always open to each other, but their minds seem to be closed off right now. We're either going to have to play referees or we're going to have to lock them in a room together until they sort this out. Either way? It's for the good of our nephew or niece."

All three girls help up their plastic cups of mouthwash, clanking them together.

"For the well being of Jellybean," Aria chimed.

Their heads tossed back, their cheeks swishing around the minty substance before they all leaped for the sink, disposing of it.

As they headed back into Spencer's room - where Spencer was waiting with a movie in hand - Hanna made another verbal suggestion.

"Do you think instead of R.I.P on Ali's grave, they should have etched in B.R.B?"

**AN: Guess what? I'm back, and so is this story! I hope I haven't lost any readers during the hiatus. My muse escaped me, along with my motivation. This was in part due to lack of feedback - as people seem to be doing hit and runs (or read and runs). More-so some of my work has been stolen, and it appears unfortunately that many of my original readers have drifted off to these stories that are guilty of taking from me. It's pretty disappointing and in all honesty, I contemplated just discontinuing all my stories completely because of it. I do not mean to hash out a lecture, but if you're noticing these similarities, be it in story lines, dialogue, jokes, or descriptions, please say something! Don't just be a spectator in their creative robbery! I understand I do not hold ownership over little quirks, or Spencer and Hanna bonding with Audrey (who is in the sequel to this story) watching Finding Nemo. But when there are HUNDREDS of children movies, hundreds of careers...I just...am beside myself in why people feel that it is okay to take my ideas. I'd like to extend gratitude to those readers whom have remained faithful, especially those who have reached out to me to continue writing this story. A special thanks to Tracey for her support. **

**When you work extremely hard to shovel out these chapters - spending hours at a time - and then to get messages from people about how other writers on here have started shadowing your work, or you update and your only reviews are "Update" RIGHT after you just updated - it's beyond discouraging. However, the wonderful Spoby in the finale has jump-started my desire to continue this story, along with Making Up For Lost Time, so I'm hoping you'll see chapters up more regularly. Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and to offer your feedback. Thank you for letting me paint down my frustrations! Please note, for the few of you who continue to take for me, you will no longer get away with it. You will be called out publicly. **

**How much did everyone LOVE Spoby in the finale? Multiple scenes! So beautiful. Our OTP is back! Pretty sure now they can make it through anything tossed their way; not that it will be easy. After all, Oliver said they are indeed soul mates. ;) It looks like Toby will have a decent story line in season 4; pertaining to things with Alison and his mom. Looking forward to that! **

**You're all wonderful and I love you. Consider the length of this chapter my apology for not updating in over a month. Keep tuned for regular updates! xo.**


	27. Duck, Duck, Goose!

**I am overwhelmed - in the best way! - by your feedback on this last chapter. Thank you for your encouraging words and messages. I hope you find this chapter to be satisfactory ; struggled a bit with it, which explains why it took so long to post. Happy reading! **

**Chapter 26: Duck, Duck, Goose! **

* * *

One of the most influential and admired French Renaissance writers, Michel de Montaigne, once stated that, "stubborn and ardent clinging to one's opinion is the best proof of stupidity." If he'd have had any inkling that stubbornness would experience a rapid growth during the oncoming centuries, perhaps he'd roll over in his grave as Toby slammed down another shot-glass onto the bar top. Surely, Montaigne was right on track; stubborn ways and opinions only lead to tomfoolery that could have easily been avoided with the willingness to expand horizons and think outside of the box. However, for Toby, he'd single handedly built his box and nailed it together in company of his favorite hammer. And he stood inside that box, set in his ways. Spencer was equally cantankerous. She was as stubborn as they came. Once she had her mind wrapped around something, there was no getting her to evacuate her box of believed righteousness.

In many people, stubbornness is a sought after quality. It's a characteristic associated with confidence; with pride.

But for Spencer and Toby, all it seemed to do was put up an emotional labyrinth of no mercy. It was surely one of their most strongest points, but also their weakest, especially when networked together.

Toby knew drinking didn't solve anything. In fact, it had the propensity to congregate an offspring of problems. However, after being blown off once again by his unbending wife, he accepted an extended offer from his new fire buddies to guzzle back a few shots and shell peanuts at a local pub. He knew he wouldn't be able to go home to Spencer absent of sobriety, so he just planned on retiring at the firehouse for the night. He had a shift the next day anyway. He'd have to dogfight his hangover in the morning beforehand, but at least he could avoid an unnecessary confrontation with Spencer over yet another choice he made that she didn't approve of. A fraction of him felt bad she was at home alone tonight; he missed having her in his arms terribly. He missed kissing her expanding navel and making her breakfast in bed. But he didn't miss their constant crossfire of bickering whenever they entered the same room. Which is why the rest of him took this as a welcomed emotional vacation, allowing him to order another shot.

His buddies were acting like freshly turned 21-year-olds with nothing to lose on the karaoke stage, slaughtering a tone-deaf rendition of a Taylor Swift song he didn't care for in the first place. He was certain that if his chief was present, the four lunatics battling for World's Sorest Throat would be undergoing a severe lecture of disappointment, and his comrades would be apologizing like the sissies they were. Toby didn't find such behavior engaging at all, but the middle aged women in the pit seemed to be goo-goo eyed over the men's attempts to become their closeted rock-star alter-egos. He was third youngest, but he'd always been mature beyond his age, especially since marrying Spencer. He'd much rather spend an evening reading with her in bed or paying special attention to all the kinks in her body until they worked out than make a complete fool of himself after getting excruciatingly inebriated with a bunch of hooligans.

The next shot of Tequila lessened the sudden sting in his heart at the relapse in thought back to Spencer. It was impossible to keep his mind off of her, simply because she was always on it. She was just as etched into his thoughts as she was sutured to his heart. Even when he was removed from her presence, the spirit of her was still with him in some way.

Releasing a muffled burp, Toby removed his wedding band. He took it between both sets of his pincher fingers, twirling the silver circle of promise.

_For better or for worse..._

He shouldn't feel unwelcome in his own home, right? He shouldn't feel as if he had to tip-toe around to avoid setting off landmines whenever they were home at the same time. He shouldn't have to send her texts or emails with interesting or important information he'd read up on regarding Spencer carrying their child. He shouldn't feel inclined to sleep in the guest bedroom and huddle over a smaller sink instead of sharing their his and her sink upstairs. He should be prying his shirts out of her arms after tickling her, not transferring a portion of his wardrobe downstairs when he needed something new to wear.

To put it bluntly? This sucked. Toby hated this. Here he'd just obtained a new job - a possible noble career - and instead of drinking to celebrate, he was drinking to mourn his decision and the shin-kicking effects it was having on his otherwise stable marriage.

He just didn't understand why Spencer couldn't step off her high-horse of always being Mrs. Always Right to hear him out. He wasn't doing this to hurt her. He wasn't doing this to put his life on the line and selfishly take away the possibility of him growing to see their child's first day of school. He wasn't doing it to put a strain on any of Spencer's plans or aspirations. He was stepping up and doing what he thought was right. He was trying to be a man, and here she was, treating him like a boy. He was six feet under in this current of tug-of-war between what he knew would benefit his family, and what Spencer wanted.

He was taking shots to the throat, but they really felt like shots to the head; assassinating flickers of the angel on his shoulder telling him to stop now and go home to Spencer. He wanted to drown out unpleasant memories of their disagreement, not drown in her lectures. The calloused pads of his fingers traced the rim of his latest shot glass, and his posture grew lazy; his shoulders slumping against the surface of the bar. His mouth felt heavy, the muscles there failing him; turning the corners of his lips downward. Ocean met silver as his eyes reminded him his wedding finger was still naked, the ring Spencer had picked out for him with _"Safe Place to Land"_ etched on the inside near his elbow.

"I hope you removed that for cleaning, and not because you're contemplating divorcing my best friend."

It was as if looking through a Kaleidoscope for a moment before his eyes cooperated and rebelled against the liquor that had plagued his body, but after few blinks he recognized the raven haired girl popping a squat beside him.

"Emily. What are you doing here?"

She removed her purse from her shoulder and set it down in her lap, ordering herself a drink. "Don't sound so enthused to see me, Toby. I don't know if I possess the capacity to deal with your excitement. I'll take a White Russian, please."

Her words were sarcastic, and Toby instantly let his bitter-old-man tone go. He sighed into his palms, massaging his stubble coated face.

"That's bold of you," he hiccuped.

"Just because I come equip with lady parts doesn't mean I have to drink like one and slurp daintily on a Daquri."

Toby shook his head groggily, sliding his ring across the counter and placing it back on his reserved finger. "How did you find me?"

"I stopped by the station to see if you were there. The sign out front told me you and your red suit sidekicks would be three sheets in the wind by the end of the night. This is the closest bar to your new bunk bed. Plus, if that hadn't been a compass to your location, you certainly sent out an invitation to stalk when your phone updated your whereabouts on your facebook page. You and Spencer have got to work on your hiding skills."

"Yeah, well, we have that and being hardheaded in common these days," Toby retorted softly.

Emily sighed, reaching out to clap a hand to Toby's shoulder, her eyes glazed with sincere concern. "I'm worried about you. Spencer's worried about you."

She let a beat pass before she elaborated her sentence, "I'm worried about Spencer worrying about you. It can't be good for the baby."

The shame painted on his face was unmistakable, but no match for the flashing of worry residing in his marine eyes. "I know. I miss her. How is she? Is she...I mean is the baby..."

Thanking the bartender for returning with her beverage, Emily shrugged her shoulders, shoveling out her phone. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Toby wasn't taking the bait. He gave Emily the cold shoulder, tossing his head back to let more alcholol shimmy down his throat.

"First, that would require me to be sober. Second that would call for us to be on the same page; we're not even in the same chapter at the moment. And the way things continue to go? We'll not even be in the same book by the end of the year."

Slipping her phone back into her purse, Emily supported her face with her palm, grabbing at Toby's leg. She gave his knee a supportive squeeze, before rotating his chair so her cowardly best friend was facing her, whether he liked it or not.

"So if you're not going to confide in Spencer, then you're going to talk to someone."

"Like who?" Toby spat, "You're all on her side of the court with your pom-poms and foam fingers. I'm the bad guy right now."

"Hopefully the girl sitting across from you who, I don't know if you are experiencing amnesia, is also your best friend! Toby, those lines aren't as defined as you think they are. You'd be surprised. I'm not playing for some opposing team here; I'm rooting for you. I'm rooting for both of you, together. Because I've seen you hit bumps before, bumps - by the way, so much worse than this one. And I've seen you recover from them and come out stronger not only individually, but as a couple. Hanna, Aria, and I haven't formed any single team player alliances. We're remaining neutral here. But you're not the one carrying around a ball of life now, are you? Spencer needs us right now."

Swallowing, Toby blinked back tears. "I need you too."

"So talk to me, Toby. Let me in. I'm here for you. I'll be your crutch, your shoulder to cry on, and your designated driver, but I won't tolerate being your doormat. You have people who love you and Spencer and want to help you. I think you both need to lower your gates of pride and let us in to do so. This may be between you two, but it's affecting all of us. We just want our best friends back."

Toby nodded as the pub broke into a round of applause, encouraging his buddies to another round of ear-bleeding karaoke. He scratched at the five o'clock shadow on his tired face.

"You want to know why I did this, don't you?"

Emily confirmed. "I've heard Spencer's side of the story, now I want to hear yours."

As if it was the easiest answer in the world, Toby rolled his shoulders backwards, replying without pause. "I did it for her. I did it for Spencer and our baby. We're not exactly rolling in the big bucks these days, and I thought that this would be a step up from making carvings and operating chainsaws. I just wanted something better for them. For us. I'm trying to pave the path towards a better future, that's all. I know she doesn't see it that way..."

"She sees it as your death certificate. She's afraid she'll wind up a widow and a single mom. You have to admit, her concerns are valid. Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, will you? For me? She's chugging along in her pregnancy, and she thinks everything is going fine. She has consistency in the way things are. She has a plan. She knows it won't be easy raising a baby while she's still completing classes, but she has a plan. She's happier than she's ever been despite the grueling morning sickness. She has a beautiful house. She has a doting husband. Then suddenly, just like a switch, she feels as if all of those things are corroded. She's still got a beautiful house, but she's worried that the pictures it's filled with will be all that is left. She's worried she'll have to rely on those pictures of you and her for comfort, instead of being framed in your arms and looking into your eyes. She's worried that on top of planning for a baby, she'll soon be planning for your memorial service. Do you get the gist of it now?"

"I do," he decided, "Look, Em, I know it's not what she wants. I get it. I really, truly do. But maybe this is what we need."

"Toby, take it from someone with a fresh perspective. I can relate to this situation more than you know. I know it's a different form of service, but the concept of risking your life for the greater good is the same. I know what it's like to have an adoring father who would do anything for you and your family. I know what it's like to have him cheer you on at your swim meets, or take you to your first Daddy-Daughter school sponsored dance. But I also know what it's like to look up into the bleachers and remember that he's not there because he's serving his country. And as proud of him as I may be, and this may sound extremely selfish, I would much rather him be home to cheer from the bleachers. I've seen you go above and beyond to help Spencer before, but right now she doesn't need above and beyond; she needs you right here. Because the ordinary for her? The ordinary where you're holding her as she drifts off into slumber each night, the ordinary where you you stick her socks and jacket into the dryer before she leaves for school so she doesn't freeze, the ordinary where you sit down for a simple dinner together? That's extraordinary to her. I admire your bravery, and I'm here for you no matter what your final decision may be. I hope you know that. "

There was a shifting from marine to sky blue as Toby let Emily's speech anchor to his ears; echoing down to the chambers of his heart.

Everything she was saying made sense. Maybe sitting down with Spencer for a civil conversation wasn't a bad idea. In fact, he knew he needed to speak with her, and soon; the sooner the better. However, after downing one too many sips of liquid courage, he still didn't have a sufficient amount of bravery that would allow for that to happen.

Throwing down a few twenties, he bobbed his head towards the exit. "Do you think you could give me a lift back to the station?"

"I know you don't want to go home in this state, but you're always welcome to stay with me in my apartment, Toby."

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to reduce the tangles his own stress had birthed. "I know that, and I appreciate it. I think I'm going to have to decline that offer. But thank you."

Emily dug for her car keys, offering a smile. "Alright, I'll drop you off at the station, but I'm staying until you fall asleep. I've nannied you under the wing of Senorita Tequila before; someone needs to ensure you don't try to sell your body on the street corners at 4 AM. C'mon, Gentle Giant. It's far past your curfew and you've got to be up mighty early this morning to climb the beanstalk that is life."

Slinging his arm appreciatively around Emily's shoulder, Toby allowed his best friend to escort him out of the pub, ignoring the protests of the party he'd originally arrived with some hours ago.

* * *

Meanwhile, Aria and Hanna were dealing with an emotionally drunk Spencer at the Cavanaugh house.

Spencer was flirting with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, her fingers playing merry-go-round with the handle as she spun the half empty mug on the marble counter. The floorboards came to life as she paced back and forth across the kitchen, her face contorting into scowl.

When the grandfather clock in the foyer gave a shout-out to the current ungodly hour, Hanna's patience ruptured.

"Oh for all things holy! We've been having this conversation while you ricochet from counter to counter for the past two hours! I'm exhausted! My feet are experiencing second hand erosion just watching you pace on yours! It's obvious that no matter what Aria and I tell you, you'll never take a break from galloping on your high horse of 'I'm right, you're wrong' to take one for the team and make a play! I feel like I'm waiting for a defective bag of popcorn to cook in the microwave."

Aria passed the blonde ticking-time-bomb an icy stare. "Hanna!"

"No, you know what? I've reached my limit! I came over as moral support, ready to root you on, but guess what? You didn't even play! You sat in the pit as all the other baseball players made home runs. If you're going to make us endure hours of you surrendering to defeat, then at least make sure there's a concession stand so I can shove a hot dog and cracker jacks down my throat! I'm tired of beating around the bush for you to start singing _Pop Goes The Weasel._"

Hanna snatched her handbag from the counter, wagging her finger at Spencer with a hiss.

"Spencer, stop procraffinating!"

Unfamiliar with Hanna's lingo, Spencer blinked, bringing her cup up to greet her lips. "What?"

Hanna swatted at the cup, confiscating it so she had Spencer's undivided attention.

"Stop procraffinating! You know, the process of engaging in procrastination while slurping on coffee beans...?"

This time it wasn't just Spencer gawking at Hanna's introductory vocabulary lesson. Aria joined the _What the hell, Hanna? Club_ as well, taking over the position of Vice President. She reached out to reunite Spencer with her coffee, but Hanna made a beeline for the sink, purging the cup of it's steamy contents.

"Hey!" Spencer squealed, "I needed that!"

"No," Hanna corrected, angrily trying to coordinate her arms through the holes of her blazer, "What you need is to lay off the caffeine and lay on the fireman! The longer you leave this battle unarmed, the more casualties you'll have. Grow some courage in that stupid garden of yours out back and go talk to Toby before things blow up...no pun intended. I'm out. You're cutting into my beauty sleep with your talking tango. Goodnight!"

She began to angrily stomp her way to the exit, but she soon came clanking back in her Manolo Blahnik stilletos. Her figure declined in altitude until her lips brushed across Spencer's protruding stomach, kissing her unborn nephew or niece goodbye.

"Love you, baby sugarplum!" she giggled, before glancing back up at Spencer, "Don't love you right now."

As the front door slammed behind Hanna, Aria and Spencer exchanged identical expressions of confusion.

"You know," Spencer began, "Just when I think I have my ducks in a line, someone always yells goose."

**Still to come:**

**-Who wants some Sparia? **

**-Who will win the stubborn game? **

**I know Hanna is always absolutely bananas in my chapters, but she's so fun to portray! I hope you get a kick out of her out of this world lines as much as I do writing them for you :) I have a soft spot for Toby + Emily, so I also thoroughly enjoyed writing their interaction. **

**As per always, your feedback is greatly appreciated. I'm putting out a Welcome on my Review Box doormat and hoping you'll pay a visit. I have virtual cookies and lemonade! Thanks for reading. **


	28. The Battle

**Chapter 27: The Battle**

* * *

_The light of love extinguishes every argument, every disagreement & in its place understanding grows.- UK _

In life, there are some things that are better left unsaid. '_I'm sorry_' should never be one of them.

For some, saying sorry is a picnic ; it comes as naturally as a hello greeting. To others, it is likened to swallowing a pill; one that is thick, chalky and massive. If you've ever left the comfort of your apartment, you have been acquainted with these individuals. You've heard the synonyms:

Thick-headed.

Inflexible.

Rigid.

Headstrong.

Unshakable.

Persistent.

While these people on their own can be entirely frustrating, it is a storm waiting to happen when two pig-headed souls dwell together. Falling madly in love with someone who happens to be more stubborn than you? Seems impossible, doesn't it? Let me let you in on a little secret: nothing is impossible. This was something Spencer and Toby knew all too well, for Toby never dreamed he would find a match that would house more indomitably than he did. That was of course, until he was habituated in all things Spencer Hastings. Through the course of their dating career, engagement, and marriage, they had endured many hurdles. But, of all these handicaps, none seemed to pose a greater interference than their common shared trait of being excessively stubborn.

Of course, being stubborn isn't always an unwanted quality. But it is when stubbornness is paired with pride that additional qualms arise. While losing your pride for someone you love, one should proceed with caution during disagreements. Because more often than not, anomostiy winds up marrying obstinacy and gives birth to pride, which winds up being the grandparent of a lost cause. When this part of the decline in the relationship tree extends its' branches, one can actually wind up losing the one they love _over _their pride.

There is truth in advising that somethings in life must be set free, so let it go. It is also true that there are things so momentous, so necessary to the life we lead that we should never let go. Because those are the things worth fighting for.

Eric Segal's film _"Love Story"_ received heightened fame over the years for this line: _"Love means never having to say you're sorry."_

When you love someone, you do everything you can to abstain from blemishing their feelings, and you do your best to take those feelings into the highest consideration. But what Segal's characters don't inform you, is that even the best intentions can go sour. Even the artful dodging of emotional laceration can have the exact opposite result. In the heat of the moment, in the eye of the hurricane of anger, this typically occurs.

Eric Segal's characters never had the pleasure of meeting Spencer and Toby Cavanaugh. For true love? True love means being willing to say you're sorry. Love sometimes means admitting that you're in the wrong. While the cause of the apology in the first place can be quite the agonizing offense, a sincere apology from the depths of the soul, to the base of the heart, can be the meridian of redemption; of forgiveness. Of healing.

But in the relay of a relationship, which participant will be the victor: stubbornness or love?

* * *

Hours had come and gone since Hanna's theatrical exit stage right from the Cavanaugh residence. Once the blonde fireball had ejected herself from the house - and in the process, the dramatic situation of playing emotional table tennis with her two best friends - the house fell into an awkward silence. Spencer and Aria pioneered from the kitchen to Spencer and Toby's bedroom, where the pair cuddled up together in an attempt to wind down.

Aria was continuously battling a wave of fatigue, her head falling against one of the many pillows. She was nearly asleep when Spencer found her voice beside her, looping her arm through her small best friend's.

"Aria?"

The little one groaned, "What?"

"You don't think I'm being stubborn, right? Do you? I'm just...being strong in my convictions. I'm behaving like this because I believe in doing what is best for the welfare of my family."

Aria rolled over, propping her head up with the palm of her hand, her elbow standing against the pillow nearest her. Her vacant hand searched for Spencer's, and she provided it with a supportive squeeze.

"...Spencer, I think you'll find that's exactly why Toby is behaving the exact same way. As much as I'd love to become a temporary mediator to your problems, I think the only way this can be solved is to just sit down and talk with him. Privately. Anything Emily brings back will likely get creased in translation. You need to stop relying so heavily on what we think, and focus on what Toby thinks. What _he_ feels. You can't move forward if you always take eight steps back. Trust me, I tried it once; and I only ended up with a broken wrist after taking a backwards tumble down the steps. You're set in your ways, I get that...but I also know that you're set in your heart. Talk to Toby. I will continue promoting free hugs and trips to Coldstone."

Spencer considered this food for thought, though at the moment her appetite for outside wisdom was no longer accepting diners, having reached the emotional occupancy for the night. Right now she just wanted to sleep. She quite frankly hadn't been obtaining much of it since she found out Toby was joining the fire squad, and her body was screaming at her to make up for lost time. She had the baby to consider now, her stubborn tendencies would have to step down for the night.

Moments later, Aria sat up, dabbing at her eyes. She gathered her jacket and shoes that had been discarded for comfort reasons, zipping up her boots.

Spencer sat up, pulling one of the many blankets she owned over her shoulders.

"Thank you for staying, and for being here for me."

"You're welcome," Aria responded earnestly, passing Spencer a firm hug, "Are you sure you want to be alone tonight? I could extend my stay if you need me to."

"I appreciate the offer more than you know, but I'm sure. You should get home."

Placing a sisterly kiss to Spencer's forehead, Aria climbed out of the giant bed, "I'm here for you anytime, okay? Don't forget that. Even at...4:30! You've got to be kidding! How is it that early already? I have classes in three hours and so do you! Goodnight!"

Spencer couldn't help but discharge a low laugh from her belly. Witnessing Aria scramble out of the room, tripping over a pile of clothes in the process, and then hearing the expeditious fleet across the hard flooring, followed closely by the starting of an engine and the peeling off of tires was too comical. Spencer had never intended on keeping Aria captive for that long, and she silently prayed to whomever was in the power upstairs that her best friend would be fully functional in her classes, feeling a bit guilty for emancipating Aria from her originally scheduled program.

Once her laughter had subdued, the uncomfortable blanket of suffocating silence filled the house once more.

Toby's side of the bed was still abandoned. It was no longer made, for Spencer had given in to her desire to snuggle his cologne scented pillows for comfort the night before. It was now stained with her mascara that had decided to go vamoose in the midst of the tears that had drowned her eyeballs. Toby wasn't physically there, but his cologne teased Spencer's senses. She was experiencing something similar in her heart; for all the pictures framed on the walls of them over the years reminded her that he wasn't there, yet in another sense, he was. Even when he was absent, he was always residing in her heart.

She missed her husband terribly, but her professors were notorious for hashing out quizzes in the event Spencer ever missed a class; which was few and far between. Deciding that she would have to wait until after her classes in a few hours to speak with Toby in person - and in private - Spencer set the alarm on the nightstand, once again hugging Toby's pillow to the curves of her body.

Her eyes as heavy as her heart, Spencer let her body sink into the mattress under the weight.

* * *

Meanwhile, across town, Toby's mind was going as stir crazy as his wife's. His arms, heavy from the consumption of alcholol, ached. He knew much of that ache was contributed by the heavy lifting he had been doing for this new occupation in partner with every drink he had thrown back, but his heart convinced him otherwise. His arms ached because they were itching to hold Spencer. She had been missing from them for far too long. He would give anything to have her back in them, here right now.

He missed waking up to her in the mornings, making her breakfast extra early just so they could enjoy it in bed together before their opposing schedules kidnapped them from each other's company. He missed kissing her augmenting stomach when he arrived home from work, and the way she would run her fingers through his hair affectionately as he did so. Hell, he even missed watching her have the great "What should I wear tomorrow?" debate in which she would spend over an hour congregating the proper outfit to wear the next day, and draping it over the edge of their bed in preparation. He missed how she would scold him for leaving toothpaste aftermath in the sink after brushing his teeth, or how she would lick her thumb and dab it against the corners of his mouth where the remainder of his toothpaste always ended up. He missed the way she would smooth down his hair in the morning, even after he had deliberately coated it in gel to keep it sticking up.

He missed _everything_ about her.

His arms growing numb from all the wear and tear, Toby tucked them under his head, glaring up at the Miss America bikini poster the former resident of this bed had put up there before him. He made a mental note to tear it down as soon as his head was coordinated enough to do so without him slipping and breaking his neck.

From the bunk neighboring him, two of his comrades snored on heavily, as if the fog of Toby's pain didn't exist.

The world had gone on around him despite his pain, but his world had stopped the moment Spencer had begun giving him the cold shoulder.

There arose a sudden clatter from the level below, and Toby perched himself up in hazy confusion. The door to the upstairs hallway pushed upon slowly, and for a moment a lone shadow stood at the entry. Surely his eyes were playing tricks at him...it was as if he was looking through glass stained windows, because that figure resembled that a of a woman's. He prayed that it was Spencer.

But alas, that figure suddenly morphed into one of his scrawny working mates, who had just peeked in drunkenly looking for the restroom, his pants already pooled at his ankles. Toby pointed him on his way, and the next round of drunken buffoons came clobbering up the steps and down the hallway.

Toby groaned, throwing his body back onto his cot.

The golden fire poles glistened in association of the moonlight; the moon apparently feeling just as heavy with debility as Toby, for it began its gradual descent to make room for the morning sun.

It took another hour or so, some salted crackers, and a bottle of water for Toby to begin to sober up. Once he had done so, he surrendered himself to his lumpy makeshift bed, his eyes shutting in hopes that today would be a new day, one that would bring on new chances.

His chest began rising in falling in a relaxed pattern when the door creaked open once more.

Toby ignored the sound, paying no mind to the approaching, hesitant, slim shadow targeting in on his personal bubble. His nose caught a whiff of a perfume foreign to the fire house and booze, and he thought for a moment he was dreaming as an angelic, concerned face with long, chestnut hair looked down at him.

He hummed, "Spencer..."

It took a minute to process that the figure kneeling next to his bed, gradually reaching out to stroke his rebellious hair back, was not a mirage. Nor was it one of his new roommates.

Even in his groggy state, those copper eyes were unmistakable.

It was Spencer.

**_To be continued..._**

**Oh, look. I left you with a cliffhanger. You know what that means, right? You have to wait for the next chapter! ;) See? There's always reasoning behind my evil ways! Will Spencer and Toby have that epic romantic reunion you're all pulling for, or will their stubborn tendencies put a knot in everything once more? What do you do when the person who has broken your heart is the one person who can glue it back together?**

**Don't touch that dial! If you ask nicely with a cherry on top, I just maaaaaay update within the next 24 hours. It's up to you, folks. **

**Thank you for once again taking the time out of your day to read this story/chapter. You're all absolutely wonderful, and I send all my thanks and love. **

**You are more than welcome to send me a few lines in the review box, as I would love to hear what you have to say about this chapter. Feel free to add your predictions for the chapter that will follow, too! **

**In answer to a few questions commonly posed:**

**- This story is a prequel to AATWBT. While some of the jokes and references in this story would make SO much more sense if you read that story first, it is entirely up to you. Maybe it will be more fun to read this first? AATWBT has over seventy chapters...you decide. Just know that one is readily available to you and entirely complete. If you ever fret over the future of Spoby and their baby and need some comfort, then by all means, pay that story a visit ;) **

**-Do I still accept prompts? YES. Here or on tumblr, take your pick. Which bring me to the next commonly posed question...**

**-What is my tumblr? Send me a DM and I will happily share. I try to bring over the prompts I get from there to here, but it doesn't always happen. **

**-Will you ever get any cute Spoby pregnancy moments? Yes! :) In the near future...;) **


	29. The Victor

** Just to disclaim right off the bat: The * included in this chapter denotes an AN:/ I do not claim that violence should ever be an answer. The fighting I'm referring to is fighting for the things you are passionate about in life, not inflicting any type of harm on you or another person(s). Thank you! **

**And now, ladies and gentlemen, I give to you...**

**Chapter 28: The Victor**

_"The heart that knows how to bow down and say sorry, is the heart that loves most." -Unknown_

* * *

_Fighting is often discouraged in both private and in public. Many believe that the act of fighting is not the answer, but an expansion of the original problem. Our whole lives we are led to believe that fighting will only bring forth more than we can take; that we ought to lean towards peace. What your elders fail to inform you, is that there is one thing you should always fight for. It's not karma for the kid who stole your lunch money at recess by dangling you upside down and shaking out your pockets. It is not bludgeoning your siblings for stealing the last cookies after dinner. It's not for the first spot in line at a celebrity meet and greet. _

_If you're going to fight for one thing, it should be true love._** ***

Toby mentally pleaded with his aquamarine eyes to adjust to the transition from the back of his eyelids to the lighthouses in Spencer's toasted chestnut orbs. It required a few aggressive blinks and warding off of purple spheres before his retinas adapted to the change. His heart rate, however, won the race, functioning at a peaked frequency.

There she was...her characteristically up-kept nutmeg tresses structured loosely around her face; her face that was dampened with a fusion of fossilized and fresh tears. Tears he had undoubtedly generated in his absence. Still, her lips as ruby as ever, she never looked more beautiful to Toby than in that very moment in time.

"Spencer," he wheezed, "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

Alarm shanghaied his formation of tied up knots in vocal form, and he found himself pushing against his hangover to sit up, a hand clapped against her shoulder.

"The baby...?"

Her shake of the head dis-affirmed his worst fear, but she still appeared to be incredibly distraught.

His brain filed through the faces of everyone they knew and loved. Had something tragic occurred with one of their friends? Their family members?

"Did something happen to one of the girls? Is Emily okay? Was it your parents?"

Spencer excreted a dry sob, her hand disemboguing from where it had been positioned near his pillow. Her palm impinged gently upon his bewhiskered face, caressing the slight dimple on his cheek. She sighed sadly, as if she was lodging not only emotional debris, but every heavy atom that ever existed. The way her lower lip quivered as a new generation of tears distilled down her delicate cheek bones, ski jumping from her plump lips added further devastation to Toby's heart.

"Just us."

Unable to stop himself from leaning into her desperately needed and craved for touch, Toby's left hand cupped the one she had on his face, and he brought their now clasped hands to his lips, where he placed delicate kisses on her knuckles.

Toby had always been quiescent - soft spoken, only speaking when addressed first, a quiet, gentle soul. But there was one thing he never wanted to be discrete about, and that was his love for Spencer. Right now, even if he couldn't locate the proper words she needed to hear, he was going to find a way to stand at the top of a canyon and profess his love for her. It wouldn't be vocally...they never relied on overused words to get the message across. Their sempiternal devotion was loud and clear through their actions; it had always been that way.

Spencer picked up on the change in the atmosphere, her eyelashes behaving as fluttering butterflies to rid herself of her tears. Her mouth was open slightly, anticipating Toby's next move. She seriously doubted anything could be more tender than the kisses he treated her knuckles to, but when he cupped her face in his big, strong hands and kissed her temple, eyelids, nose, cheeks, and chin, she realized she was wrong.

She weakened against the gentleness of his touch, and he pulled her in between his legs. Her knees still sitting uncomfortably on the hard tiles, Spencer was relieved when Toby guided her upwards slowly. He waited until her face was framed with the descending moonlight before his eyes danced between the depths of her conflicted eyes and her open, inviting mouth. While the air between them had been thicker than the shrubs in a rain-forest, he was sure as hell determined to hack that emotional obstruction down. Her hands planted firmly on Toby's shoulders to steady herself as he lowered her into his lap, her legs kissing each side of his thighs.

She wasn't even fully settled against him - her bump posing as a slight blockage - before Toby's lips ceased the opportunity. Their mouths fused together desperately; the need for affection, for understanding, for compassion, for forgiveness, for repair apparent as the tour guide to the graceful choreography of their lips.

Having been removed from each other's company for so long, their kisses developed promptly.

Toby didn't understand how their reunion could be fueled by so much unsettled anger, yet still so gentle in nature. It was passionate, but it was undeniably loving.

Spencer's hips responded to the gradual inclining slope of his palms under the spine of her shirt, her back curling involuntarily. Still, she somehow beat him to the removal of opposite article of clothing, for his shirt was soon set aside, unwanted. Her hands traced the toned planes of his chest and abdominals, before her lips played copycat. Her lips soared upwards, but not nearly as high as Toby's heart. She began leaving traces of her presence against his collarbone when he grew intolerant of the material cloaking her. Easing her arms up, he chaperoned her shirt - or rather, his shirt she had stolen- up and over her head, tossing it onto the edge of his bed. He took his turn in peppering her exposed skin with gentle kisses, moving his attention to her neck when her head fell back in permission. The soft cries she had been releasing before upon her arrival were gradually replaced by sighs of approval.

Soon Toby had lowered her back onto his bed, pulling the sheets up over them.

Spencer's fingers took a recess from tugging at his hair and harboring into his shoulder blades, her eyes locked with his as he gazed down breathlessly at her.

He motioned to his sleeping roommate across the way, a finger over his lips. Spencer nodded, muffling her extended sigh as their souls united in Toby's shoulder.

An aubade - the song greeting the dawn of a new day- began to illuminate their tangled figures enchantingly; making it appear as the lovers were glowing.

Instead of collapsing in fatigue beside her like she predicted he would, Toby progressed his intentions. His lips greeted ever inch of her, beginning with her lips, descending down to her growing baby incubator. He gently circled the basic outline with ghost-like kisses, taking his time. Whether or not the sun was against them, Toby wanted to make Spencer feel wanted. He wanted to wrap her up in the sheets, and in his arms. His final kiss to her lips was leisurely; loving, soft, and pure...everything a kiss should be. It robbed Spencer of her breath more-so than the reconciling they had just partaken in.

He arranged himself beside her, the twin bed posing a problem for sufficient room, before pulling her against him. Spencer let her legs tangle with his, one propped up against his waist. She nuzzled into him, and he secured his hold over her, kissing the top of her head.

Both feasted their tired eyes upon the unfolding of morning sponsored by the gigantic window in the room, but remained enveloped together without any intention of moving soon.

"I know why you're doing this," Spencer finally whispered, propping herself up on her side to dip her finger into his chin dimple.

"Athough I may not agree to the choice you made, and still house countless concerns, I respect it. I admire it. Most of all? I respect and admire you. If this is where your ambitions to do your part in the world have led you, then I will hold your hand through it all. My hand may shake...but it will stay strong in yours. Because Toby, I love you. With the exchange of our rings and vows, came my endless support. I will follow you into the dark...or into the sunlight. I guess...I guess a piece of me has been selfish. I love you so much, and if anything ever happened to you, to take you away from me...I just don't know how I'd manage to go on without the love of my life. I don't know how I would raise this beautiful life we have created without you there. Yet, I know you have so much to offer the world. Your heart is as pure as gold. You have the strength, compassion and instinct to do this. You are my hero, but maybe now it's time Rosewood gets a glimpse at the wonderful man I know you to be so you can be someone else's hero too. Just promise me one thing?"

Toby stroked her hair, "Hmm?"

The glossiness in Spencer's eyes damn well nearly broke his heart all over again as she looked down at him with begging brown eyes.

"You're already this baby's hero too, so promise me that you'll always fight to come home to us...to tell us your stories...to multiply the pride we already hold for you. Promise me you'll always fight your way back to my heart, no matter what the conditions may be. Can you do that for me? Can you make that promise?"

Toby reached up to stroke her cheek, the intensity in his eyes causing Spencer's arms to weaken.

"Spencer, I promise you that nothing will ever obstruct my safe return into your loving arms. I will always, always fight for you. Always."

His hand declined until it brushed against her protruding stomach, "And you, little one. You have my word. There is nothing that is more worth fighting for."

Settled with this agreement, Spencer let her lips fall against his again.

"Hmm," Toby hummed in between pecks, "If the clock above the window correctly displays the current time, you are very tardy for your first class of the day. It's not like you to miss so many classes. You used to take so much pride in having perfect attendance. What happened?"

"I fell madly in love with a carpenter and his baby blue beggars, and I realized that as important as my education is, there is something far more important: You."

She paused, tickling his abs with her fingertips, her lip sticking out. "It's not like us to sleep in separate rooms, let alone buildings. Come home?"

Toby rubbed her back. "What are you talking about? I'm home right now...because you're in my arms again."

"Right where I belong," Spencer added softly, "Home is where the heart is, and my heart is always with you...which means that my home is wherever you are. I have a confession to make. I can't sleep when you're not at our house. Nothing feels right without you there. You're missing, and so is a huge piece of me. Please tell me these firehouse sleepovers will be far and few between?"

"They will be for now, being as I'm the new kid on the block. Which means," Toby tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear, "We should cherish this time we have together right now. We've got quite a bit of making up to do, Mrs. Cavanaugh."

Spencer giggled, "What about your sleeping chum over there?"

"Who, Ronny? If he hasn't woken up yet, he won't now. Let me love you."

Spencer didn't need to be asked - or demanded - twice. She immediately returned her aching lips to Toby's.

He deepened the kiss instantly, a hand cupping her skull; tangling into her hair. So encased by the overwhelming supply of love her husband was providing for her, Spencer cupped his face, letting her fingers drag gently down. Her muscles ached, her eyes burned, her stomach was running on empty, but still, nothing could be more perfect.

Everything Toby was doing - just like everything he had always done - was for her. Was for their child.

So it was in that moment that Spencer put up her white flag in company of Toby's; love being dubbed as the victor of the weary battle between the soul-mates.

They were so enraptured by the presence of their spouse that the sudden blaring of the alarm nearly caused their souls to eject from their skin.

Spencer shrieked, looking to Toby for comfort and safety. Toby hugged her to him tightly, shielding her ears from the harsh buzz that quickly awakened all the other lodgers of the house, include Ronny.

Ronny finally took notice of the newly made up couple, limping as he shoved his feet into his boots.

"The hell Cavanaugh! This isn't some brothel! Get your gear on and hustle! We've got lives and buildings to save! Let's go!"

Toby and Spencer watched in dismay as he slid down the pole.

Another comrade came trampling into the room, flicking on the light, "Your lady can wait, Cavanaugh! This fire can't! Get your ass down that pole before I throw it out the window onto the truck!"

Toby removed himself reluctantly from the bed, pulling on his boxers and pants. Once he was concealed properly from the waist down, Toby draped the excess covers around Spencer to give her some dignity. As he fished around for his proper fire fighting attire, which took much longer than he had hoped despite the constant drills he had mastered before - he was still love drunk apparently - Toby awkwardly looked up at the man who had taken him under his wing.

"Uh...Jones...have you met my wife? Spencer, Rick, Rick, Spencer."

Rick came forward to extend his hand, and Spencer uncomfortably let him shake hers.

"Pleasure to meet you, miss. Sorry for stealing your husband away from you."

He nodded at Toby, "You're all geared up. Now maybe we can get there in time before the bakery on main street burns down! Let's get going!"

Fed up with waiting, Rick lowered himself down the pole, shouting orders to the team down below.

Toby groaned, leaning backwards. He took Spencer's face between his hands, his forehead against hers.

"I love you. I'll see you at home later."

Spencer pressed her lips against his, throwing everything she could muster into it, hoping she got the message across that she loved him more than anything in the world.

"I'll be waiting. Toby? Stay safe."

Toby nodded, tipping his hat to her, before he too took his exit.

Left alone in silence following the speeding off of the firetruck her husband was riding on, Spencer sunk back into the mattress groggily. She hugged Toby's pillow to her chest securely, taking in the comforting scent of his aftershave. Her fingers tickled his badge that he had accidentally forgotten on the bed stand in his haste to leave, and she wrapped her fingers around it. Her lips danced across the outline of his first initial and last name. Slipping on the shirt he had also left behind, she pinned it there over her heart, determined to wear it with utmost pride for the man who was going to war for her love; for their future.

"I love you," she whispered.

_True love. _

_Fight for it._

_Because it's the only battle worth fighting for, not a war worth losing._

**Ooof...not particularly my best chapter I've cranked out yet - I am my own worst critic - but I hope you enjoyed their make up , nonetheless. I apologize for any mistakes made, as I finished writing this at an insane, ungodly hour, and my body is not pleased with my decision to stay up and write. ;) **

**Do you want some cute Spoby pregnancy moments? Do you want to find out the gender of their baby to be? Will Toby's job come between he and Spencer? Find out by staying tuned in! My goal is to upload another chapter within the next few days. Your reviews are like the first flowers of spring; entirely welcomed! **

**Love you all for reading! Thanks for the constant flow of support. xo. **


	30. Butterfly Invasion

**Chapter 29: Butterfly Invasion**

* * *

There is this phenomenon that gets a thrill out of marauding your intestines when you're overly anxious about something, or in the highest form of contentment. If you've ever stood in line awaiting that fateful moment when destiny introduces you to an idol you're determined to wed, you know what I'm talking about. Or perhaps you've just boarded your first dare-devil-roller coaster ride. You could be next up in line to deliver a speech for a class. Maybe your crush is terminating the distance between their lips and yours. There's an actual name for this physical sensation: butterflies in the stomach. Of course there aren't actual butterflies making a home out of your insides when one experiences this fluttering. It all comes back to endorphins. They're pesky little things that like to hijack casual moments for their own twisted, sick viewing pleasure. It's often a good sign when you're in the beginning stages of a relationship, but if in fact you still manage to receive this fluttering, paired with the abduction of your air supply, you're either facing a gastrointestinal issue or you're one of the few lucky ones experiencing true love. For Spencer, the persistent fluttering activation around her husband was likely the latter.

She had lost count of how many times Toby's lips had adorned her flourishing navel. A book in hand - she had only managed to read the first page, distracted by her husband's physical contact of tender nature - Spencer was propped up against a barrel of recently fluffed-to-perfection pillows. Her chin was resting along the material of the t-shirt she had rented from Toby's drawers after taking a shower; her still slim legs spread to ensure enough room for the man cushioned between them.

Toby was resting the support of his body on his elbows on either side of Spencer's thighs, his taut stomach flat against the mattress as he peppered Spencer's baby bump with a fortune of kisses. His lips flirted with her bellybutton as he produced a light hum; serenading their unborn child with a lullaby.

He had delivered proclamations of love for the awaited bundle making itself comfortable in Spencer's womb more times that day than he had to Spencer in an entire year; and that was saying something because the man was constantly forking over his immeasurable love to her. When he wasn't saying it vocally, he was showing her.

These days, it seemed as if Spencer was competing with her six pack fetus for attention, and it was still in the oven! A fetus cake. She was competing with a fetus cake. As soon as Toby would walk in the door from his duties at the firehouse, though her lips would always be pursed in anticipation, his mouth would sky dive for her belly. Spencer's lips felt rejected, but she couldn't help but admire how sweet Toby was already over their little darling. He was going to be one hell of father, that she had utmost confidence in. So, though she often times felt like chopped liver in the competition for a steady flow of attention, it was moments like these where she couldn't really find anything to complain about. Because when you're love sick and pregnant, your husband tenderly kissing your stomach is the least of your worries. In fact, it is highly welcomed as a precursor to a butterfly invasion that signals you are still very much in fact as in love as you were when you were sixteen.

Just then, Toby's lips began proclaiming a trail along her bellybutton upwards, hiking up as he pushed the bulgy t-shirt she was wearing up, up, up. Spencer's hand abandoned her book, knotting her fingers into his hair in gratitude. Her eyes drifted shut as her lips dislodged a soft sigh. Alas, his ministrations came to a halt. One eye opening in expectation, Spencer nudged his stomach with her knee.

Had he fallen asleep? He had fallen asleep the other day as he had been working his way upwards to her lips. It had been awful. His hours at work were fatiguing, and his time with Spencer was divided between eating, sleeping, and preparing for their baby - which, much to Spencer's dismay, would not come by stork.

"Toby?"

His chin rested on the dip before the start of the hill that was her fetus incubator, and his smile was perhaps the silliest she had ever seen painted across his scruff-ed features.

"May I help you?" she prompted, "Did you reach a stop sign? Because the rules state that after you've cleared both ways to check for oncoming traffic, you may proceed."

"...Was just thinking."

Spencer's eyebrow made a leap upwards.

"Are you going to make me read your mind or are you planning on cluing me in?"

"I was thinking about the mystery of the whereabouts of this particular garment of mine. Unfortunately it has gone missing."

Spencer decided to play along, setting her book down on the pillow neighboring her elbow, "Oh, no. Well, do you think it's a runaway case or grand garment auto?"

Her play on _Grand Theft Auto_ didn't earn her a laugh from her husband as she had hoped, but he did crack another peculiar smile at her, the pads of his fingers playing xylophone on her ribs.

"I have reason to believe that this item was taken away by force. The timeline of the event is still unclear at this point, as are the motives behind the abduction, but precautionary steps are definitely being taken."

"Well, that sounds serious. Have you obtained any search warrants? Sent out a broadcasted alert? Perhaps a description of the item would be beneficial in your investigation there, Inspector Gadget."

In exchange for the tickling he was doing on her ribs under the shirt she was wearing, Spencer began to sift her fingers through his damp locks, awakening the now formerly retired scent of his mint shampoo; and in turn, her senses. Her legs came to vine around him, her heels digging into his lower back indents.

"A description? Hm, okay. Allow me to paint you a portrait of the victim of this unspeakable crime."

Spencer's nose wrinkled to humor him, "Oh, so unspeakable."

Dabbing at the hem of her shirt, Toby twirled the navy material between his fingers. He spoke playfully, placing emphasis on certain syllables as he delivered the characterization with in an artificial French accent.

"The shirt features criss-cross stitching at the hem, the thread of which is a lighter shade of blue than the rest of the material, which happens to be navy. When placed on the owner of the shirt, it accentuates his cerulean eyes; or so his wife has claimed in the past."

His fingers continued to snake upwards, pushing the shirt further and further up, his body sliding against hers as he continued. Spencer's fingers brushed along his spine, up to his shoulder blades in the process.

"Said shirt also has sleeves that very much favor the ones you have. Shirt also includes four consecutive buttons going down the collar. Like this one."

Pretending to be completely innocent, Spencer twisted her lips, tapping his chin with her forefinger, "Hm. Sounds familiar. Where have I seen that shirt before? So you have absolutely no leads? No suspects?"

"Ah, the primary investigator actually had a few. The first one was the closet. The second the laundry baskets. The third the laundry room. All of those have been cleared of any suspicions. The fourth however...is now going to be subjected to questioning and a lie detection test."

"Really? Who might the fourth suspect be? Anyone I know?" Spencer couldn't help but giggle.

Toby giggled back, tinkering with the buttons below her collar, "Spencer Hastings."

"Well, you're out of luck. I'm not harboring any fugitives here. The only Spencer Hastings I know has experienced a name change. She hasn't been seen since. I can be of no assistance to you, I think you've picked up the wrong girl."

"Not so fast! I believe she goes by Spencer Cavanaugh now. Correct?"

Spencer's quick nod only encouraged Toby's little game. He gave the shirt a sharp along the neckline, purposely bringing her face closer to his. His eyes were steadily planted on her lips.

"Spencer Cavanaugh, you're about to undergo a lie test. I just need you to answer any of my inquiries with a solid yes or no. Did you take my shirt?"

Muffling her laughter, Spencer shook her head, denying his allegations.

"No, Mr. Cavanaugh."

Toby held on of his hands up, pretending to use it as a scanner over her body. His lips pressed together and he produced a humming sound, followed by the emitting of a few rapid beeps.

"Beep beep beep beep beep...uh-oh. My lie-dar is going bizerk. You have failed the test. You know what that means, don't you?"

Spencer's eyes too were sealed to the lips across from her, hoisting herself up on her elbows for better access. "Enlighten me."

"You stole my shirt!" Toby breathed, before his lips came crashing down onto hers.

They kissed as if they had been deprived the privilege for months, Spencer's hands anchoring into his shoulder blades as his arms wrapped firmly around her middle to keep her fastened to him. With guidance from Spencer nudging him, Toby rolled over, reclining back. He pulled Spencer along with him, her hands once again returning to his hair. Spencer's lips departed Toby's and she couldn't help but smile when she heard his protesting groan. Her lips wandered downwards to his chest, and she kissed around the area where his heart was currently beating like a wild drum.

"You stole my heart,'' she whispered.

Her chin resting on his chest, she lassoed her arms around his torso, her legs wrapping around his.

Toby beamed down at the brunette beauty, brushing back a few rebellious wisps of her hair, stopping when he reached her chin. He propped it up with his thumb, caressing along the area in utter adoration.

"You stole my last name."

"Yeah, I did. Best thing I've ever done."

"No," Toby whispered delicately, dragging her upwards. He assisted her in sitting up so she was straddling his stomach, his hand stretching out to dance along her growing belly. "This is the best thing you've ever done, Spencer."

Spencer kidnapped his hand from her stomach, kissing his palm. "No, baby. It's the best thing _we've _ever done."

Toby's eyes lit up at her amending statement, his mind instantly boating towards dreamland. Visions of their bundle of joy resting in his arms invaded the moment, and the dreamy expression on his face was enough to remind Spencer that there were still butterflies leaping for joy inside of her, triggered by her husband's sweetness.

"I can't wait to hold our baby."

She flashed him a radiant smile, her mind too venturing into the clouds in regards to that highly anticipated moment that would surely top anything that had ever taken place in their world. The thought of Toby holding their baby, singing it to sleep, as she watched on from the doorway of the nursery someday was almost too much. In order to prevent the waterworks from making a disruptive cameo that would ultimately leave her blubbering for hours, Spencer kept her feet cemented firmly on the ground (so to speak).

"Neither can I. It's going to be perfect. And I promise you, you will have plenty of moments with our little one...but in the meanwhile, as we wait for this fetus to continue developing into something that doesn't look like a lizard, can you please steal something else?"

He hummed in curiosity at her proposition, kneading her lower back.

Spencer's lips reintroduced themselves to his collarbone, before ascending to his lips, "Steal some moments with your wife, please?"

"Believe me, I plan on it. And for every cherish-able moment we steal together, you'll be stealing my breath."

Drawing the duvet up over their heads, Toby and Spencer drowned out the remainder of the afternoon, and Spencer lost her bookmarked page once again.

**Wish I had a valid explanation for my absence with this update, but it would honestly be a list of excuses (though, half I do believe are actually good reasons) and no one wants that. I can only apologize and vow to try to keep on top of this story from here on out. I'll discontinue giving estimates for expected updates, because the last thing I want to do is let my readers down. **

**Next chapter you will...**

**-Join Spencer and Toby in a trip to the doctor's office to determine... *drum roll inserted here* THE GENDER OF THE CAVANAUGH BABY! ;) If you've already read my story AATWBT, I'm expecting you to act shocked and not spoil toooooo much for the others. I've already got it mapped out with some dialogue, now I just need to go through the process of editing and adding for more length. **

**How happy were we all with the generous amount of pictures/videos coming from Troian and Keegan on set today? Looking forward for Spoby scenes this season! I love you all. Thank you for reading. Until next time. **

**Feedback is always appreciated and you'll be paid in smiles. :) Oh and you know, I might bribe you a bit with including any prompts RELATED to this story/plot you'd like included in this story. This can be specific or even "Cuddly spoby." I hope you enjoyed the tender spoby moments I portrayed in this chapter! xo.**


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